The Reason Why
by Elizabeth Scott
Summary: How does the love of two people change when it's buried deeply in only one of them for twelve years? What does it mean when the truth is so big, and so altering, that it could burn absolutley everyone? A different kind of Quil and Claire story.
1. Invariably, Incredibly Impossibly

1. Invariably, Incredibley Impossibe

"No."

"Oh, come on Claire! Just this once I promise."

"No."

"Please, please, please! I'll become your lady in waiting?"

I gave my best friend Maisy an evil eyed look. She played dirty.

"No."

Her face set, she went for the jugular. "Fine, then I'll just _tell_ everyone about the

ladies in waiting thing."

We both stood there, eyes spitting venom, neither of us saying a word. I gave in first.

"Look, Maisy, I _will not_ go out with Dave. Again!"

"Oh, come on, you have to admit that his do-able factor has exponentially increase over the summer."

"You mean the fact that his head is now able to graze my shoulder? You mean that? Well, that just changes everything!" If I was anymore sarcastic I would have to be a late night talk show host.

"Please, I'll carry your bath water for the rest of the year. I'll call you Madame and promise to keep my affair with the Earl a secret from you. Please!"

"Shut up about the Earl already! Wait, you're sleeping with my fictional husband? Since when, you harlot!"

She cocked an eyebrow and continued mockingly, "Now who's seven years old? Come on, I'm begging you, just this last time….for me?"

I felt myself deflate. I was a sucker for the desperate and deranged. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to get something out of this for myself.

"Fine…" Maisy's glass cracking squeal made me flinch and duck for cover. "Under a couple conditions."

She waited patiently for me with a dismissive look of respect. Exasperating.

"First, you will here by stop holding my childhood obsession with the Renaissance over my head. If you don't remember you were the one who started it. And…"

I was worried about this next command . I eyed her warily.

"You have to go out with Jason."

Maisy's eyes widened, shocked. Thereafter, of course, followed one of her legendary screeches. Oh, the pain. She bounded over and went up on tip toe to throw her arms around my neck. She continued to babble on for what felt like an eternity before she finally let go of me and let me go home.

While I drove home I thought about this new arrangement I agreed to. Truth be told it wasn't Baby Davie Hunt that repulsed me. It was the way everybody reacted to it, like we were engaged just because we saw a crappy action flick in Port Angeles and were still able to look each other in the eye afterward. High school seemed to be the housing unit for escaped mental patients. Even when I grew desperate enough to tell them the truth that I was just 'test driving' him for Maisy, they still looked at me like I as expecting Dave's child in May. Freaks.

Then, invariably, my mind turned to Jason. Truth be told I had never been on the other end of this. I have liked guys before, but not enough to have Maisy try him out for me or actually go out with him my self. I guess you could say that Jason was different. He didn't act like other guys at school, like sleazy stockers. He was kind of shy and was just happy to play the piano and be the smart guy everyone envied. Including me.

I had just made the turn onto the main road when I saw the black pick up truck lonely sitting on the side of the road. I slowed as I neared it, searching for the owner. The truck was deserted, with no one around. Confused, I continued to drive slower than usual, looking for its owner.

I found him about two miles up the road. He had his back to me so I couldn't tell much about him. He just carried a worn black back pack over his shoulder and was walking at a fast clip. As I grew closer, and slowed further, I got an idea of how big he was. Huge. Like my Uncle Sam and all his friends. Yet, I didn't recognize his truck and as I passed him I saw a fleeting glance of his face in my rearview mirror I confirmed that I did not know this person.

I waved to him in the mirror before pulling over to the side of the road. I turned off the ignition and proceeded to jump out of the car. I closed my door firmly before turning to face him.

We both froze as our eyes met for the first time. Don't ask me what I thought in that first moment, because I'm not quite sure. I had the strangest feeling fizzling in my brain, making my eyes see for the first time what I had missed in everyone else. My first coherent thought was, _Impossible_.

It was more than one thing that shook me about him. At first it was the sheer breadth of him, and it was more than size. It was like he took up the entire world as I saw him for the first time. I felt the edges of him pushing against my soul and I found it difficult to breathe. Then it was his eyes; so dark and so expressive. They were shocked, amazed and a million other things I couldn't grasp at that moment. His face was so broad and attractive, an incredibly young face for such a body. From a distance he looked like he was in his mid twenties, but his face made him no older than me.

I felt like, impossibly, I knew him. I didn't need words to know who he was. Somewhere inside me I already knew. Still, it wasn't my style to stay silent.

"Hi." Count on me to underplay the moment. "I, uh, saw your car and thought you might need a lift."

His face became more mystified as I spoke and he was still frozen mid-step.

"I don't know what you need, but here I am. I'm Claire."

**A/N: Hey you guys this is my second fic in like two days of being here! Call me a commitment fob. Quil and Claire fascinate me, and thier dynamic will be explained in full later. Next chapter it's Quil's turn! Please review! Oh yeah, i don't own these characters, Mrs. Meyer does. **


	2. Walking Back

2. Walking Back

"I quit."

I hadn't exactly meant to say it like that, but hey there it was. It wasn't my job that I would miss, lumber had never been my calling, but it was the safety. I had been gone from La Push for twelve years and found the idea of going back terrifying.

Jim just raised his eyebrows and continued to evaluate my body language. He had always been extremely perceptive and I knew what he could see. My guilt and indecision and discomfort.

"Quil," I kept my eyes on the invoice in front of him on his desk. "I thought you liked it here. Why do you want to go?"

It was true that the lumber yard suited me just as well as anything. The labor was east but consuming and the hours meant I had an excuse for not having any social life. The guys here were unassuming and accepted me when I had first come, only nineteen years old. They had quickly become my friends and I found the years flying off the calendar. I could not deny though how I spent my evenings. Running through the wild Oregon forests as the mythical wolf that had become my only comfort in this mute life of mine. I had made friends, but they were not my family and my family needed me right now.

"I have to go home. There's some business I need to take care of."

Jim's significant look made the guilt even stronger. He only knew the bare minimum of my story and had never asked for more of it. He had become a father figure to me in this past lonely decade and my hard work and friendship was all he had asked for in return.

His eyes dropped as he shifted some papers on his desk. "You'll have to hand in your I.D and the keys to the truck. In a week or so you will receive your last check if you would give me your address. Other than that you're free."

That last sentence made me want to assure him, but he interrupted me.

"Its okay, Quil. Sometimes we run so hard and so fast from the shit we did that there ends up being only one way to rectify it. Take care and good luck."

* * *

I knew something was wrong with the truck when I got over the state line. The transmission was making this horrible screeching sound. I did stop at a small mechanics shop about a hundred miles from La Push, and they said that I would be lucky to make it fifty. A tow to La Push would surely clear me of all my cash and I couldn't stop and wait much longer, so I continued.

When I passed the sign saying WELCOME TO LA PUSH, I felt déjà vu wash over me. This is where I had grown up. This is where my family and friends were. It was an undeniable part of me that would always be there. There was no turning back.

The car finally gave out about ten miles from the house. I sighed, grabbed my back pack and started the long walk home.

I could morph and run, but I needed time to think. It had been so long and I had left under such devastating circumstances. It had been my choice to go. No one had ever expected that I would deal with it that way. They had tried to stop me, especially the pack, but I couldn't bear the looks I got from people in town. Or, more specifically, that little girls sad eyes.

I had been walking for about half an hour when I heard an old blue Taurus slowing down behind me. The driver started to pull over about a hundred feet in front of me and waved at me in the rearview mirror. I quickened my pace, eager to get there and get it over with.

The driver hopped out of the car, a young woman wearing a puffy navy jacket, a purple sweater and jeans. I saw her profile first and took immediate notice of how beautiful she was. The thick lashes and slightly upturned nose, with elegant cheek bones and the slightly fuller upper lip. How, in that first moment, did I not recognize her?

When she turned to face me it hit me like I had walked into a brick wall. She took me with the full force of her rich brown eyes. The way she tilted her head, her contemplative expression. Her standing stance, one leg slightly bent and resting against the other. The way her dark wavy hair framed her beautiful face.

The moment seemed charged with meaning I set my eyes on her for the first time in twelve years. Somehow in my head she had still been that five year-old girl who loved playing dolls with me and going to the park. She hated carrots and whose one true joy was being pushed by me in the tire swing in the back yard. She would fall asleep against my chest as I told her great tales of princes and dragons and happily ever afters.

I needed to breathe, sit down, something. Being so close to her again was the greatest joy and greatest pain I could ever imagine. All those years I had wanted nothing but to be with her and not allowing myself to subject her to me. I had wanted that little girl back, who loved and trusted me more than anything. Who cried my name when hurt and sucked my name in between peals of laughter. Who I had left behind, lost and alone, needing me more than ever.

There she stood, all grown up and still the girl I loved. Everything she did drew me in and made me lose all control. There was nothing I wouldn't do for her and nothing to keep me away. Need coursed through my veins, hot and startling.

It was very much like imprinting all over again.

_Claire_.

"Hi."

I visibly started at the airy, slightly husky sound of her voice.

"I, uh, saw your car and thought you might need a lift."

It was so hard to take in and I felt my confusion affect her.

"I don't know what you need, but her I am. I'm Claire."

I stayed rooted to my spot for a moment, then without even realizing it started to move forward. As I got closer her expression became more surprised and she straightened up to her full height. I felt eager and excited for the first time in what felt like years. My pace had quickened so that when I got within a few feet of her I had to put on the brakes. We both instinctually leaned slightly away from each other. Maybe I was too close or maybe she felt our connection just as strongly as I did. Either way she had the most complex look in her big, beautiful eyes.

"I'm Quil." This time it was her flinched slightly like she had been shocked.

"Oh." Her full mouth formed the word slowly and froze in that shape. Her eyes darted across my face and she took on the most adorable unbridled expression. "Oh," this time she seemed surer. "Well, I don't know where you're going but if it's close by I could take you there."

Little did she know the places she took me. "Yeah, it's just down the road."

"Right," she said abruptly and turned jerkily back to her car.

I walked around to the passenger door as she opened hers and unlocked the rest of the car. I had just pulled the handle and swung it open when her bright voice sounded.

"Hey, do you need anything from your truck?" I couldn't concentrate on this question at first. Her expectant expression turned light. "You never know, it gets dark pretty fast this time of year, and you wouldn't believe the mischief that goes down in these parts."

"Really?" I couldn't help but grin.

Her face serious, "Oh, yeah, the wrong doers around here have no compassion for an innocent passer through like you."

"So they'll steal my clothes and tooth brush?"

"Is there a more serious crime?"

My own laughter surprised me. "Well, then I better go claim my treasures."

Her face broke into the most beautiful smile. "Good choice."

We climbed into the car and settled in as she smoothly made a wide U-turn back the way she had come. My eyes would not leave her as they hungrily took in every gorgeous detail. Her perfectly shaped fingers as they gripped the steering wheel. I could almost see the muscles in her shapely legs working as she slowed near my truck. How her full lips formed the words to an 80's song she sang silently.

Her face grew darker as she noticed my stare. "What?"

I tore my gaze unwillingly away. Everything. "Nothing."

I made quick work of grabbing my two Army issued bags of clothing and my stereo. I had gathered them all and thrown them in the back seat before she could get out of the car.

"That it?" I nodded as I re-buckled. "Okay, so where do I turn?"

"At the blue and white mail box."

Her eyes flew to my face in surprise. "Sam and Emily's place?"

I took a deep breath. "The very same."

Her perfect eyebrows pulled together. "So you're visiting?"

"Yep." I felt her dissatisfaction and so elaborated. "I used to live here."

"In La Push? Well, it couldn't have been that long ago."

I shrugged, scared to say too much. "I just needed to start to over. No one really wanted me here anymore."

We were turning into the drive way when I heard her say quietly, "I can't imagine that."

I couldn't do more than stare at her, taken aback by her words. How could she know?

"Here we are," she said more loudly. Sure enough we had arrived at Sam and Emily's tidy little yellow house, completely unchanged.

We both got out of the car and she attempted to lift one of my bags of clothing. She strained to even lift it a couple inches from the ground.

"Jesus, what do you have in here?"

"Cinder blocks and steel poles." We both grinned at each other like idiots.

She shifted uncomfortably, trying to contain her smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it."

I came back to reality for the first time in the past twenty minutes. She was leaving and she didn't know who I was. I felt the weight reappear on my shoulders. I didn't make a move go inside, just stood there staring after her car long after she was gone from my sight.

The flicker of the living room curtain brought me back. My head ducked as I heaved the bags onto my back and I felt large birds trying to fight their way from my stomach. With foreboding I met my dark and torrid past.

**A/N: the next chapters will be much more informative and will move much faster, i just wanna build up to a big climax! Review!**


	3. Home Bitter Home

_Disclaimor: Stephenie Meyer owns Claire and Quil, i'm just stealing them for a bit._

**Hello?...Hello?...(echo, echo) Ok, for anybody out there here it is, the next chapter in my Claire and Quil saga!! I'm sorry it was so long coming but there was finals and holidays and then my grandpa got sick and is still in the hospital and now I'm sick. So things have been hectic, which i will try not to use as an excuse in the future. This chapter is sad, not weepy sad but still sad. Lets just say Claires life hasn't been normal or happy since Quil left. I do like it though, i tried to really get a feel for her mind here. Quil's should be coming soon, much sooner than this one. **

The mechanical task of driving home was soothing as I considered my encounter with the most perfect human being alive. I was excited and scared and apprehensive and determined all at the same time. I felt life, such a strange and lose term it had once been, had finally begun. My purpose, my destiny, everything I would ever need had walked into my life.

As I entered the driveway I noted that the lights were off in the house, a bad sign. My footsteps as I walked over the damp cement were leaded with dread. It was days like these that silenced me and made my heart hurt. Days like these had turned me into an empty mockery of a person.

I smoothly unlocked the side door and opened it. With as much grace as possible I lightly set my heavy bag and puffy coat on the kitchen counter before heading to the living room. There I found my mother; there I found my dark secret.

She sat in the middle of the large cream colored couch, the photo album in her lap, the T.V tuned to the weather channel and muted. Her dark heavy hair hung wet over her shoulders and masking her face. The bath robe she wore was blotchy and crumpled; apparently she hadn't tried to dry herself off after her shower. Her damp shoulders hunched in consternation, appearing to take the brunt of a great bereavement. Her long, thin fingers traced the edges of the pictures in the album; shaking with pent-up need.

As I grew closer I was met with the sight that I often met when I came home, ever since I could remember. It was something we never talked about outside the house, something tipped toed around whenever possible. The room was lit a very dark blue from the T.V omitting only enough light for her to see the pages. Everything about her, the way she moved and talked and looked, was hallow; like everything had been scraped away save but what was essential to live.

Slowly and deliberately I took a seat beside her on the couch. I tried lightly touching her arm. Still she didn't notice me. I glanced briefly down at the picture the book was open to, two little girls in yellow flannel coats. "Mom—"

With a startling snap she had the album closed, cutting me off mid sentence. Her head whipped to me, eyes wide and tear scarred face tight. We stayed like that for a couple seconds, acknowledging to each other how often we had been here before and how tired we were of it.

She turned her head sharply away and brought her hands to her face. Her voice was muffled against her robe sleeves, "Claire, honey, what do you want to do for dinner?"

I was very still as I considered her. I spoke clearly and slowly, "I don't know, Mom, maybe we could get out that pesto that's left over from Sunday."

"Oh, dear, you know how your father feels about leftovers." Still, she faced away from me.

"Well, maybe we could make a pizza with it. Put some chicken and mozzarella on top or something."

Her movements were jerky as she angled herself towards me. Her cheeks were dry now, but the ruby red rings around her eyes were distinctive. She seemed to have gathered herself and even made the effort to smile. "You think such a thing could be done?"

I returned her effort with a bright one of my own. "I think its crazy enough to work."

My father arrived home an hour and a half later. He was met at the door by my mother; fully dressed, hair dried and wearing her false contentment like a quilt in the dead of winter. He hugged her lightly like he was going to break her mood like glass. As always, he started out by being cautious around her like she was a wild animal who hadn't yet realized it was caged. Then, after many smiles and chipper comments and hugs, he succumbed to her. I think more than anything, he gave into himself. That need deep seeded within him, wanting so badly to believe that his wife was really, truly okay.

My mother took the pizza out of the oven with a flourish. My father exclaimed accordingly about how delicious it looked. My father cut the pieces, I set the table and my mother poured the drinks. We sat down and dug into the pizza and salad. Questions were asked all around, about school and work and the weather. We ate dessert and kept our carefully rehearsed dialogue going throughout the clean up. We parted ways, I to my room, my father to his computer and my mother to her book.

As I lay on my bed that night I was hit by the full force of our actions. Our carefully written out and stuck to meticulously script. We were actors, not really living breathing people. We just went through the motions of life and what we thought was normal, and most people fell for it. Except, when we were around each other. Most people would rather not look and see the pain and emptiness that underlay our every move. Maybe it wasn't better this way, but it had a way of being easier.

With a sigh I turned my computer on and logged onto the internet. Almost immediately new windows popped up, friends of acquaintances or even strangers, who wanted to talk to me. About boys, football games, shopping, reality T.V, movies, etc. Nobody, not one, wanted to talk about my deeply depressed mother and painfully indulging father.

We didn't really know each other, me and these people. I knew their names and who they were dating and whose party they had gone to on Saturday night; not who they were. I didn't know their second cousins name, their favorite pen, whose funeral they attended when they were seven or about the cat they loved that died last week. All those small, seemingly meaningless things that come with _knowing_. And they knew even less about me. Not one knew what kept me up at night that caused permanent purple shadows beneath my eyes. Not one knew what an outsider I felt like, despite how I acted. Not one cared about my mom and dad and the theater production that had become my life. Not one knew about Quil, and how in three hours he had become more important to me than anything I called my own or would ever encounter in my life.

I let them greet me without reciprocation, and just stared at the screen. No where did I see the name Quil, I didn't have a picture of him or even a last name. Yet, I knew him better than I would ever know these 'friends' of mine. So I thought about him, who might like me and even might want to talk to me about more than stupid materialistic crap. Who might love me despite my façade. I wonder what he was doing, at Uncle Sam and Aunt Emily's house, right now….


	4. Memories

**A/N: Hey all you bee-yoo-ti-full people! Here is a MAJOR look at Quil. It took me two days its like three times as long as long as the other chapters. Many, many hints are given in this chapter. It's my favorite so far. Thanks to all of you who reviewed and favorited and alerted you guys rock! Keep it up! Oh, and i plan to start dolling out Theme Music for the chapters, so much mores to come. Much more.**

Chapter 4 Memories

I rang the doorbell and stepped back, somehow knowing that I would need the extra ground. Sure enough within seconds the door was flung open and a blur of black and pink flew at me. Even though I was four times bigger than her I still staggered at her powerful enthusiasm.

"Oh, Quil! Thank God you're here!" Emily whispered fervently in my ear as she attempted to squeeze the life out of me. I couldn't see her face, just her shoulder, but I found my way back to the Emily I had known. The big sister and good friend. The one who feed us and loved us. Who cared so very much about everyone. I had tried to deny my life in La Push for so long, but I could no longer ignore Emily, who I had missed especially.

She finally pulled away so that I could look at her face. It was shocking to say the least. By no standards did she look old, but she had aged. I tried to do the math in my head to figure out her age. She was thirty-three years old, but didn't look a day over twenty-five. Her long raven hair still hung to her waist and she still had that perpetual smile on her face. The scars on her face had faded slightly over time, so that I could guess, from a distance, it would be hard to tell that anything was wrong.

She looked so utterly happy to see me that it brought the guilt back to me. How could I have done this to the people I had loved? Why did I bring such a weight upon myself? What justified such an unwanted abandonment?

Then a flash, a still from that day twelve years, ago came to me---

_A rocky beach on a stormy day._

_A small hand print in the sand, the surf washing over it._

_The back of a little girl in pig tails, running from me._

Then, the most terrifying of all---

_A pink tennis shoe, streaked with mud, lying on the ground._

_A cry, so small and terrified, it was almost inaudible._

_The sharp crack of a stick behind me._

"Quil? Quil, are you alright?" Emily's face swam into view in front of me. I felt a little bit like I was drowning; in the past, in grief, in regret, in guilt. Emily's hands, shaking me as hard as she could, were what brought me back. I registered her face, which was concerned, and her words, which relieved me. "Why don't we go inside, if I remember right there's not a moment you aren't hungry. I just got done baking cornbread, how does that sound?"

With a sort of relief that was akin to dodging a bullet, I smiled. "That sounds great. I'm starving."

She grinned, grabbed my hand, and led me into the house. It had changed drastically; it was much bigger and even homier. The construction was so seamless, that only someone who had seen it before could tell the difference. The front of the house, which used to just be the kitchen and living room, had been widened on either side. The living room now contained a mammoth big screen T.V and a black leather L-shaped couch. Oversized plants grew in homemade clay pots near the windows, which sported draperies Emily had sewn herself years ago. The kitchen was huge with a blue and white theme, just like the rest of the house. Blue walls, white cabinets, white dining set with blue accents, a snowy white refrigerator, blue blender and mixer, and in the cabinet blue china. The house had twice as many windows too, allowing the place to be completely lit naturally without light bulbs, even at this time of day.

As Emily went to work at the island in the middle of the kitchen, I wandered in the living room. I took note of things that could indicate the changes in Sam and Emily's life: children's' books, kid movies, dolls, balls, year books, Seventeen magazines, nail polish, video games.

Then I saw it, the family photo. I hastened closer to inspect it with awe. Sam and Emily sat next to each other in the middle of the picture, with a circus going on around them. Two girls and two boys were dancing around them, wearing every color of the rainbow, their movements blurring the colors so that they left multi-colored ribbons in their wake. Everyone's faces were completely joyous, laughing and grinning. Emily's head was Sam's shoulder as she looked up at him, chuckling, with complete contentment on her face. Even though Sam seemed to be trying to look over every child as they dancing in a circle, he held on to Emily with a permanence that went beyond posing.

I stared at that photo like there was a hidden code, an equation to happiness. I felt completely alone at that moment; no friends, no family, no support, no partner. Yet, what hurt the worst was the self-infliction of this pain. The burden that I and I alone, had to bear.

"That was five years ago." My head whipped around to see Emily standing next to me, also examining the picture, a smile on her face. "Tessa picked out the outfits; it was her turn that year. She was going through a Rainbow Bright phase. She and Cara got in a fight over a headband, and Trevor lost to Conner on a video game. When we arrived at the photo studio they were at each other's throats, but with a few sugar donuts and the photographer's jokes everyone got in the mood. The girls started dancing to a song on the radio and the boys began to mock them. This is what happened. It's my favorite picture of us."

My brows pulled together and I leaned closer, straining my eyes to see it. _It_. That thing that all people seem to have. That aura about them and their perseverance. I couldn't figure out which part of the photograph it was that screamed ecstasy to me. It was like I spoke another language, I just couldn't see it. It was there, a mystery to me.

Emily's hand settled on my arm, her face concerned. "Come on, you need to eat something."

Five minutes later I had eaten half a pan of Emily's famous cornbread. I was savoring the flavors of the corn, cheese, sun-dried tomatoes and jalapenos when I sensed another werewolf outside.

It had been twelve years since I had gotten that feeling in my limbs. A softening of bone and tissue as I was put in the presence of my brother. Relaxation as I became part of something bigger than myself, no longer a single entity. No longer hiding who I was or how I felt.

I turned just as the front door was flung open, in walked Sam Uley. As our eyes met we shared grins that were impossibly wide. Then I jumped out of my chair and Sam bounded to the kitchen table, we embraced. Heat met heat in a completely comforting way. We were bothers, more than friends, family. It was impossible to feel lonely with the pack.

I laughed when we pulled away. "Oh, Sam, man, no offense but you're looking old!"

He rolled his eyes but kept smiling. "Yeah, and your just as obnoxious as before."

I glanced between him and Emily. "No really, Sam, you do. You do…look…" I was beginning to be confused. I examined him more closely. No not old, too young. Only aged what looked like five years. Five years, so little?

A tense silence filled the space. Sam's face became grim and Emily's hand flew to her mouth in restraint, pain in her eyes. I felt my heart rate kick up, what had I missed?

"What happened?" I asked, looking between the two of them.

Sam shared a strained look with Emily and sighed. "Why don't we sit down?"

We all shuffled to the mammoth leather couch. Emily and Sam sat as close together as possible on their longer side. I sat on the edge of my seat, my hands gripping my knees. I felt myself straddling the cusp between restraint and phasing. Anxiety spread like ice water in my veins.

Sam looked at Emily as he said, "I didn't give up the leadership after you left."

Before the words had even registered I was on my feet. "What!?!"

Emily's face was in her hands and Sam's eyes held a place on the carpet. "Quil, please. You have to let us explain." When I had taken my seat again he continued. "I know that was the agreement, it was what we all wanted. Jake was willing and you wouldn't be needed anymore, but things didn't work out like that. They…well, they came back."

"No." My voice was barely a whisper, small and horrified.

"Yes," he swallowed painfully. "About two months after you left Paul and Embry were on patrol when they caught the trail. It was fresh and they attempted to follow it but it stopped by the beach. For a week we patrolled constantly but in April…they got through."

My heart literally stopped, missed a beat. No, no, no, no.

"It was right on the boundary line in the middle of the afternoon. I mean the sun was even out for Christ's sake! We didn't think they would dare to…in the open like that. They did, though. They did."

"Who was it?" I whispered around the lump in my throat.

"Rachael Redcloud."

The name fell grim and black between us. I shuddered. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be. "But she was… she was only ten."

Sam's face looked skeletal, his eyes nested deep in his skull. "Eight. She was only eight."

Emily started to cry at this point, I remember she was friends with Rachael's mother. Sam's arms immediately wrapped around her, pulling her to his chest. He ducked his head to whisper words I couldn't hear in her ear. While he rocked her his eyes found mine. Dammit. Heat exploded deep in my stomach, the rage spreading.

"How could you, Sam? Why didn't you call me, tell me? I would have come back, if I had known it would have been different. I would have come back. I would have."

Their eyes held pity as they watched me try to convince myself of this fact.

"Quil," Emily said through her tears. "You had made your choice. We didn't think it would have made a difference. I mean if you could look into Claire's eyes—"

"NO!" By now I was across the room trying desperately to keep my shape. "You had an obligation to call. _I_ had an obligation to help. Why didn't you call? _Why_, Sam?"

I was becoming convinced that if I had gotten the call, if I had come back sooner, everything would be different. I wouldn't have wasted twelve years needlessly hiding myself, and my tribe wouldn't have lost these children. I would have spent time with Claire, seen her grow up, she would know me. I wouldn't be a stranger she couldn't possibly learn to ever love again. Everything would be alright. It would all be damn fine.

"We caught them." Sam's pleading voice brought me back. "That night everyone but Seth and Jared took off after them. We never ran so fast or phased quicker. We got them just south of the cliffs. It was pretty brutal; the big red headed male got his hands on Paul. We took care of them. They're gone. Those twins though…"

"The little boy and girl got away?" My head hurt with the thought.

"They managed to slip away when things were getting pretty dirty, we couldn't find them afterward. But, Quil, I don't know if any of us could have done it. They were just children, even if they were bloodsuckers. You should have seen them, little emaciated things with black eyes…" Sam shook his head, as did Emily and I. The sight of that little boy was seared in my mind forever. A soaking wet child's corpse with the most heartbroken look in his eyes, looking desperately around in the rain for his sister.

Our chilling memories were interrupted by girlish screeches coming from the walk up to the house. A second later, two adolescent girls stomped into the house. One I immediately recognized as Cara from her curly hair and age. She stood behind her enraged sister, looking exactly like the thirteen year old she was. The other one, Tessa, was tall also, but scrawny.

"Mom, tell Cara to shut up!" Tessa pointed petulantly at Cara.

Nice to meet you too.

"Watch you language Tessa." I looked over to find Emily completely composed, effortlessly switching over to her role as mother. "Now tell me what Cara said to upset you?"

"She kept telling everyone on the bus about the grade in English and how I'm so stupid I'll probably end up on the streets harassing people outside the McDonalds!"

I raised my eyebrows at this, sisters were pretty vicious. I once again gave thanks to above that I was an only child.

"Cara," Sam said sternly. "Tell your sister you're sorry."

She rolled her eyes and said sarcastically, "I'm _sorry._" And as she flounced away she said over her shoulder, "That you're such a retard."

Before Tessa could choke out a comeback and Emily rise from her seat, Sam held up his hand. "I'll handle it." He ran after Cara with Tessa in tow.

Emily collapsed against the couch closing her eyes. "God, how I wish they were six and four again. Best friends and always wearing matching outfits." She lifted her head to look at me. "I'm sorry Quil, they're just at those ages you know?"

I attempted a sympathetic expression, "Oh, yeah."

She snorted a laugh and hauled herself to her feet. "Well, since Trevor and Conner are staying over at Matt's house you can sleep in their room for tonight."

"Matt?"

She smiled tiredly. "Jared and Kim's oldest son. Those three are practically inseparable."

I felt an insatiable itching begin in my bone marrow. I looked towards the door feeling gravity pull me towards the place my heart had gone, home no matter how far I ran. She, who never left my mind, came into the fore front. I had seen her for the first time in twelve years and I hadn't seen enough. I needed to be in her presence, just to simply breathe properly.

Emily sighed at my expression. "Go ahead, Quil. Get your fill."

The sun could just be seen falling beneath the horizon as I let the heat fill my limbs like liquid fire. The roar in my ears blocked everything else as I felt as my bones shift painfully into my second shape. My shoulders hunched at the pressure, even after all this time. Phasing was like being sucked into a black hole; your whole being condensed into a pinprick no bigger that an atom. Then like being shot from a gun you burst into this other form that was just beneath your skin.

Nothing compared to running in these woods. Woods occupied by my ancestors for hundreds of years. I could practically feel their spirits brush past me as I hurtled between the trees. It would be easy to get lost in you senses and abilities; that is unless you had your bigger half so close.

I didn't need my wolf sense of smell to find Claire. My body just knew to head west and somehow I found myself pacing circles at the edge of the woods outside her house. I couldn't hear much, three people's quiet voices and the sound of silverware. A few minutes later nothing. Everything was dark and silent. But it was too early for them to go to sleep, so I stayed put. After an hour I couldn't stand it anymore. I phased, dressed in the shorts and t-shirt I had brought and crossed the backyard to what I felt to be _her _room.

Sure enough, there she was, asleep her hair spread across the pillow. I sighed, perfection. A flawless angel slept soundly, a smile on her face. The moon came out from the clouds lighting up her face with pure white light. She was so beautiful it physically hurt to look at her. My hand came up to press against the window. The need to touch her made my fingers tremble. Oh, God, the need.

I don't know how long I stood like that, wishing so hard for things that couldn't happen. Wishing there was just glass between us right now, not betrayal and twelve years standing like a steel wall. Wishing she forgave me. Wishing she remembered me and loved me. Wishing that smile on her face was because of me, because she was dreaming of me.

The clock said it was one in the morning when I walked into Sam and Emily's house that night. I managed to drag myself into the one unoccupied bedroom and take off my clothes, when I caught sight of myself without my shirt in the mirror on the back of the door.

I came closer to examine my stomach. Not even my werewolf affinity for quick healing could save me from this scar. It was a real monster one too. Practically my entire lower abdomen. My fingers traced its boundaries as I turned to the side. It was sick to say the least, I was missing parts of my pelvic bone and it was grossly obvious.

I turned away before I could dwell too much on it. I climbed into the nearest bed and tried desperately to fall asleep. To not dream of that day that so devastatingly decided my fate. I instinctively turned my thoughts to Claire. Sweet, grown-up, beautiful Claire. But not even she could save me from that nightmare; after all she had been there.


	5. 101

**_I told i would do it, and here it is, less than a week later. Loud applause Thank you, thank you. Well, this is different...i hope in a good way. Heres some background: so Thursday was Valentines Day and one of my friends was writing a list (you'll see what kind!) to her boyfriend, and i thought it was so cute and some of the reasons end up on the list in this chapter. And i thought what would Claire think of this? And heres the chapter. She kind of took over the writing in the end, but, hey, as long as i get the credit. Quil's WILL come this weekend, I promise._**

**_Theme Music: "Reasons To Love You" by Meiko, because it's perfect for this and beauiful. Enjoy. Review, pretty pretty please!!!_**

* * *

Chapter 5. 101

School absolutely sucks. It's a fact of life. Everybody has to trudge through the twelve plus years of public education, and everybody has to be a teenager while doing it. Two things in life that convince you that whoever invented 'teachers' and 'homework' should have been locked up before they had a chance to corrupt the world with their cruel tortures.

As days go, though, this was not the worst. Overall, school days tend to blend into each other, so kids are constantly asking themselves what day it is. Also, each day has a feel to it. Unexplainable and imperceptible, it's why kids roll into school an hour late on a Wednesday and use the excuse 'I thought it was Saturday". Our lives are defined by the weekends, where we are free to be wherever we want and do whatever we want. Mostly, though, we just sleep in and watch T.V.

But this day was also very different than the others. It's like I just started wearing contacts and all of a sudden the world came into focus. Not school work, because that would have been boring, but _life_. I walked around and I noticed people more: laughter, teasing, yelling, smiling, hugging, crying, smirking, sighing, kissing, and loving. Mostly loving. It was like I had radar for horny couples. I swear after fourth period I found myself boxed into a corner of the science wing by four couples making-out. All day it was like I just walked in on people's private moments. I don't know how many times I heard 'I love you' and 'I'll miss you' and 'I can't wait to see you' walking through the halls and in class. It had been there before, but I just hadn't tuned into that radio station. Before I had just been listening to static, unaware of what I was missing out on, and then a chance encounter and twenty minutes tuned me in.

I also felt like I was on the outside of everything, watching everyone with an unnatural attention to detail. If I reached my hands out far enough I swear I would be able to touch the clear plastic bubble I was in. I was standing in the middle of a stampede of people, the only one standing still and just realizing what was happening. And I swear I had been backwards, facing the wrong way and staying motionless. Then someone (tall, dark and handsome) spun me around and I saw what everyone was running towards.

And it clicked. Really clicked inside my brain. I started to understand what all the hype was about. How that one person could make everything new, and more exciting. They could fix things, without even trying, just their presence was enough. They made it worthwhile. They made it ok. They made it life enhancing.

My epiphany came in sixth hour, just after lunch. We walked into Language Arts and immediately noted the substitute teacher sitting at the front desk, looking nervous. The entire class breathed a heavy sigh of relief, a free work day. The days that sustained us. The sub didn't even introduce himself, he looked like a kicked dog who knew better than to bark more than necessary, and handed out the worksheets. A monkey could have done it and ten minutes later we were all getting up and mingling.

We all divided up into our little groups. Usually made out to be a bad thing, but in real life having your number of friends was a good thing. It was a survival tactic, safety in numbers. Maisy and I headed over to Hope and Chloe who sat in the back by the windows.

"Hey, what are you doing?" asked Maisy as we set our bags on the ground and took seats of the tops of the two desks in front of them. I sat my chin in my hand and prepared myself for a solid forty minutes of day dreaming. I watched the sun glance off the little bit of snow left after the last rain shower, so that just looking out the window was like looking directly at the sun. Just as I felt my consciousness lift away I heard Hope's answer.

"I'm writing something for me and Brian's three year anniversary." I was startled to attention by this, and tried to get a better look at what she was writing.

Maisy squealed in delight, unfortunately a frequent occurrence. "Ahhh, that's sweet, what is it?"

Hope blushed, but in a happy, love struck kind of way. "It's a list.'101 Reasons Why I Love You'"

"How far are you?" I asked, just as curious as Maisy now.

"I just did finished, but I better hurry up because Brian's taking me to dinner at seven and I still have to make sure it's perfect…"

Her voice faded away once she handed me the first sheet. She wrote on crisp, white loose-leaf paper in dark red glittery ink. I held my breath as I waded through Hopes love, life and dreams.

_**101 Reasons Why I love You**_

**1 The way you say 'I Love You'**

**2 The way your eyes look when you say it**

**3 How you whisper it against my lips…**

**4. Just your eyes**

**5. Just your lips**

**6. The way you make me laugh, even when I don't want to**

**7. When you tickle me until I cry, and then won't let go**

**8. How you say, "When we get married…"**

**9. That you picked our song**

**10. That you spent two weeks holed up trying to find the perfect one**

**11. How you look when you sleep**

**12. That you feel comfortable around me in a wife beater and shorts**

**13. That I feel comfortable around you in my pajamas**

**14. Your face when you pray**

**15. How you smell after a hot shower**

**16. How you wear the cologne I got you for Christmas**

**17. Just how you smell**

**18. The look on your face when I tell you how gorgeous you are, like you aren't worthy**

**19.The feel of your hand in mine**

**20. How no matter where we are or what we're doing, your always touching me, even if its just my toe**

**21. Just your hands **

**22. How you held me back from punching my brother at Thanksgiving**

**23. How you play with my hair when we're lying on the couch watching movies**

**24. The sound of your laughter **

**25. The sound of your voice**

**26. The sound you make when you sleep**

**27. The sound you make when we're kissing**

**28. Just how you sound**

**29. How nervous you get when I'm opening your presents**

**30. How relieved you are when I like them**

**31. Just how perfect your gifts are**

**32. How you call me back after I hung up on you**

**33. Even though I wouldn't have called you**

**34. How you listen to my horrible jokes**

**35. How you listen to my long, pointless stories**

**36. How you listen to me when I cry**

**37. How you listen to me when I complain about something**

**38. How you listen to me when I say nothing at all**

**39. Just how you listen**

**40. That you spent four hours at the mall in the dressing room watching me try on fifty different dresses, and I didn't buy one**

**41. That you said I looked absolutely beautiful in every one**

**42. That you bought me ice cream afterwards**

**43. When you volunteer at the hospital to play with the sick kids**

**44. How you can make them smile**

**45. How you make me smile, constantly, and without shame**

**46. Just how you smile**

**47. That you want three kids**

**48. That you said I could choose the names**

**49. How you hold me when I'm falling asleep, like it's where you belong**

**50. How you hold me when I 'm crying, like you'll protect me**

**51. How you hold me when we haven't seen each other in awhile, like you will never let go**

**52. Just how you hold me**

**53. That spot on your shoulder that's just right for me to rest my head on**

**54. The way your hair falls just so into your eyes**

**55. The way your hair feels between my fingers**

**56. Just your hair**

**57. How you give me your coat when I'm cold, even if your freezing**

**58. How you don't take any of my crap**

**59. How you let me get away with small things, like getting the bigger piece of cake**

**60. The way you showed me off to your friends that first time**

**61. That you still do it**

**62. When you rub soothing circles into my back to make me feel better**

**63. How you come up behind me, wrap your arms around me, and rest your chin on the top of my head**

**64. The shivery feeling in the pit of my stomach when you do**

**65. The look on your face when I agreed to go out with you**

**66. How anxious you were on that first day**

**67. That first kiss**

**68. All the kisses since then**

**69. All the kisses to come**

**70. Just your kisses**

**71. Your hands cupping my face and the hoarseness of your voice the first time you said 'I love you'**

**72. The tears you got in your eyes when I said it back**

**73. The way you put your head in my shoulder to hide it**

**74. How nervous you were when you first met my parents**

**75. How much they love you**

**76.How much you love them**

**77.When you spent your lunch period and the whole next hour at my house when I had strep throat, making me soup and watching soap opera's **

**78. How even when I look like I haven't slept in a week and have never encountered a mirror In my life, you still say I'm beautiful**

**79. The way your eyes seek me out before anything else when you enter a room**

**80. How your eyes make me feel like I'm burning from the inside out**

**81. The way you say 'I miss you'**

**82. How no matter how loud I yell or how many awful things I say to you, you still hold me after the fight**

**83. For getting me a dog for my sixteenth birthday**

**84. For getting my parents consent first**

**85. How you hang out and play video games with my little brother**

**86. That you make him feel cool**

**87. That you are cool, and you don't even know it**

**88. How you wear those ugly orange socks your great-grandma knitted for you, even thought they're too small and she's no longer here to see it**

**89. How you act like it hurts when I hit you**

**90. That you let me win at every game we play**

**91. How protective you get of me**

**92. The smile you get on our face when I'm being silly**

**93. For not letting me settle for less than my very best**

**94. For letting me pick the radio station**

**95. For never once lying to me**

**95. For refusing to go back on your word**

**96. For standing up for what you believe in**

**97. For not trying to be anyone but your self **

**98. Just being you**

**99. For believing in me**

**100. For making me love you**

**101. For loving me**

The sound of the bell made me jump so hard I nearly fell off the desk I was perching on. With shock I looked at the clock, Had I really just spent forty minutes reading Hopes present to Brian? Yes, I had.

"Claire?" I looked up to see Hope standing in front of me, her hand outstretched for the list. I looked around, we were the only two left in the class. "Are you done?"

I looked back down at the paper in my hands, then back up at Hope. She was a lot shorter than me, with light red hair and blue eyes. I had known her for five years but had never really started talking to her until last year and we still weren't very close. All I knew about Brian was that she had met him at church and what I read in this list. But they loved each other, the kind of love everyone wished they had.

The kind of love I wished I had.

I felt tears burn my eyes and nose as the weight of it hit me. I wanted that so much I could barely breathe without me.

I want someone who knows everything about me, the good and the bad, the selfless and the ugly, and still love me.

I want someone I can cry in front of without feeling ashamed.

I need someone to carry some of my baggage for me, or I swear I will buckle under the pressure.

I need to know that everything's going to be okay. I need someone to remind of that everyday.

I need someone like Brian, who can be strong enough for both of us. Who won't let go and won't let me down.

More than anything _I needed someone_. Desperately I required just one human being who knew me inside and out, who loved me without pretense, and who I loved just as fervently.

"Claire, are you okay? Claire?" Hope had taken a step closer, a frown lining her forehead, looking concerned. I shoved her papers at her and started to turn away.

"Yes. Absolutely." I said quietly as I shouldered my bag. I quickly left the room and entered the stream of other students rushing to class. But unlike the rest of them, I was going against the current.

I was skipping class for the first time in my life. I headed out in the cold sunny day of late winter, high on conviction. I ran to the parking lot and jumped in my car.

As I was racing onto the main road and into La Push, I thought about Hope's question.

Was I done?

Yes, I was done.

I was absolutely over it.


	6. Flashback: Such Great Heights

_**I kept my promise, here it is! Just not what I expected. This is the first of many flashbacks, starting form that first day. They will give you backgruound, but not much more for a while. Flashbacks will not affect the order, so it's still Quils turn next time. I hadn't planned on writing this right now, but i had the itch. As for the last chapter, thanks so much for all the positive feed back! Yes, i did come up with all 101 reasons; again, a momentarily possesed, unplanned thing. I just created Hope for the purpose of the list, but i see her coming back soon.**_

**_Theme Music: the first half 'Far From Here" by Marianas Trench, second half 'Such Great Heights' by Iron & Wine_**

* * *

_Quil_

_15 years ago_

I remember waking up that morning in a particularly foul mood. Just the day before I had lost a bet to Embry about Jake. We had made a bet about how long it would take him to get over Bella, I had said three months, Embry said never. Of course the date was almost upon us, Jake had become more social and forgiving, and then Bella shows up. There goes fifty dollars.

After receiving a call from Sam that there was a meeting being held at his house that afternoon, I headed down to Jakes for the day. I climbed into my truck and started composing my speech to Jake about how he owed me fifty bucks. Later I would remember just how I got that money back, and the sour feeling in my stomach it still gave me.

I pulled up alongside Jakes garage and walked quickly to the side door trying to keep the words in my head that would make Jake sorry for being so pathetic. When I pulled the door open the smell of gas and motor oil filled my noise. Ah, better than roses.

Jake looked up, and even after seeing the look on my face, his goofy smile remained intact. I just shook my head and vowed never to get myself in this kind of situation. I went over to one of the lawn chairs against the east wall and collapsed into it.

"You know man," I said. "I'm not sure how much more of this the rest of the pack can take."

"What?" asked Jake, looking like he was high off magic markers.

"Oh, geez!" I was forced to look away. "Stop it! Just give it up! It's not going to happen! She choose the bloodsucker, after everything you did for her, she choose the leech. You make me sick. Where's your self respect? God!"

Jake turned his grin upside down. "Wow, Quil, tell us how you really feel why don't you?"

I sat up straight in my seat. "I will! Come on, Jake, what happened? One day you're just friends and the next you're head over heels in love with her. She even tells you, _before_ the leech came back, she didn't want to be with you. Then when he does re-enter the picture and she runs after him, here you sit. Just waiting. Waiting. Waiting. For something that will never happen in a million years! Why do you have to be so spineless?"

He was now pointedly trying to ignore me. "Well, I couldn't care less what you think about it."

"Well, you should," I said indignantly. "It cost me fifty dollars! That's right _fifty dollars_! All because you couldn't pick yourself up off the damn ground when you got dumped. I mean you didn't even imprint on her, so it wasn't the real deal."

"How would you know how I feel?" he growled. "You've never even been in a relationship. You've never been in love. You've never been dumped. Shit, you've never imprinted."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off.

"So you can go off shooting your mouth about stuff you know nothing about or try to sympathize for just a minute. I mean, it's not even over yet. There's still a chance that it could work out. There is. It could be okay."

Silence settled in the air and we both looked anywhere but each other. Then Jake got his second wind.

"You know what, Quil? One day those things are going to happen to you. One day you'll fall in love with a girl. Someone who can't give you what you need. And she will stomp on your heart, flatten it and bend it out of shape, until you don't recognize it anymore. Then, you'll have just the smallest idea of what losing Bella did to me!"

He threw the rag he was holding down. Anger coloring his already heated skin.

"And when that day does happen, I'm gonna give you crap about it. Tell you to get some respect and grow a pair. Tell you, that not in a million years, was she worth it. Worth everything you had to give, worth fighting to the last. I can't wait for that day, because that will be the day that I pick myself up. Pick myself up, just to throw you down."

With that he stormed out. Leaving his words there, flying in the air. Cutting me up inside.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent driving around on the back roads, wasting gas and wasting time. The more I thought about it, the more ashamed I became. Who was I to judge one of my best friends that way? What kind of crap friend does that?

Everything Jake had said was true. I had never had a girlfriend. Never been in love. Never been dumped. And after becoming part of the pack, it seemed unlikely it would ever happen. When I wasn't patrolling, I was sleeping and going to school. The pack had become my life, and although I didn't regret it, I still had moments where I missed being normal.

I had dated a little before. A few first dates, and a couple second ones. Nothing ever amounted to anything though. One girl named Monica had a crush on me, and I considered briefly giving her a call. Just to show Jake he was wrong, not all of us got used. Some of us were wanted, some even without fangs. Then I remembered why I had always turned Monica down, she was too hyperactive and obsessive. I was afraid that if I went out on a pity date with her she would surgically attach herself to me and I'd never be able to get away.

This led to my real fears. I wanted a choice, a fair one. I wanted a decision, and time to make it. May be that wasn't how love worked, but it was what would make me comfortable. I didn't want to find myself boxed in: on one side the girl, the other our love, the other my helplessness, and lastly the inevitability. I was someone who needed to get acclimated to a choice, not be forced into it.

It was around this time that I noticed the light fading and headed to Emily's, where the meetings were always held. One because it was more private than our homes, with our families. Two because she fed us.

I turned at the blue mailbox and took the long drive at a slow speed. I was early by a few minutes, and didn't want to be alone with Jake. When I pulled up to the house there I didn't see his car, or any of the rest of the packs for that matter, except Sam.

I walked right in without a courtesy knock. Not because I was perpetually rude, I was just so caught up with my thoughts. I headed to a kitchen chair and plopped down. I heard a snort a few feet in front of me and looked up to see Emily rolling out some biscuits.

"God, Quil, why so blue?" She smiled comfortingly.

"Oh, you know too many adoring fans and not enough of me to go around." I said trying to fake my glumness, instead of wear it on my sleeve.

She now looked even more concerned. "Really, Quil, what's up?"

I watched her for a minute, as she cut out the biscuits. Flower the cutter, press down, shaken to loosen biscuit, set on sheet, repeat. I took a deep breath and decided that Emily was as good as anyone to tell.

"Actually, I got in a fight with——"

Just then an eardrum bursting wail cut through the air. Both of us instinctively covered our ears and cringed from the offensive noise. I gave her a questioning look, but she just rolled her eyes and headed for the back of the house.

"Sam? What is going on?" she asked before she even got there.

"How do these little tab-y things work? I can't get it to stay."

Emily sighed heavily as she entered the spare bedroom. "Here let me do it."

A few seconds later I watched Sam emerge, looking abashed. He sat down across from me with a sigh.

"What's going on? What's with the dying animal in the other room?" I asked.

Sam gave me a hard look. "That was Claire, Emily's niece. Emily's sister and her husband are in Seattle at a friend's funeral. Emily offered to baby sit."

I couldn't help but grin. "Giving you a nice preview of what's to come, huh?"

He scowled.

"You know what they say, '_First comes marriage/ Then comes a baby, in baby carriage.'_"

"Yeah real mature, Quil, glad you've grown so much since the last time I saw you."

"Sam!" Emily yelled. "Make sure the oven and stove are turned off, we're coming out!"

Sam sighed but got up to do as he was told. "She's two feet tall, Emily, she can't reach. And I doubt she has the coordination to open the oven."

"Well, we don't want any burned fingers, do we?" she said as she entered the kitchen. Her voice got high as she said the next part, "Do we? Do we Claire?"

Behind me I heard the front door open and my brother's voices.

Just then I turned my head and saw the little girl Emily held.

Tunnel vision. Blurred consciousness. The Earth shifting. Time standing still.

A hundred different phrases used to describe love at first sight. None of them did justice to that moment when I imprinted on Claire.

The only way to explain it was her eyes. The amazing feeling those big velvety brown eyes sent through was like electricity. Sharp, crackling energy fizzled in my veins. Pounded in my head. I felt my heart kick up at double time.

In her I found a whole other world that I had never dreamed possible. One where I was needed. To protect her. To love her. To make her laugh. To make sure that there was not one moment, at any point in time where she was less than euphoric. A world so colorful and vibrant that it had the potential to brighten everything.

She held within her the answer to every question. Every doubt I ever felt about myself, she stifled. Wrongs that had been done, could be undone by her. She fit perfectly into that hole in my heart and my life. Every hope I had ever had for myself magnified and realigned to include her. Only her.

I had never agreed with the notion that people could belong to each other, until that moment. I would never think of myself as a single entity again. Claire was too tightly wrapped in my soul. She had become part of my chemical composition. Shifted the properties that made an earthly organism into something mythical and ethereal. I was so much more than a 16-year-old boy; I was an immortal protector of this little girl.

No matter what her need, I would match it. At any time, I would be there. I would slay all the worlds' armies if they dared to harm her. I would put the gun to my temple if it was her wish. I would conquer the heaves if it delighted her. My life meant nothing but pain and cold wasteland without her.

In that split second my future was decided for me. I would be her playmate for now, delight her and care for her. Then I would become her friend, someone she could be comfortable with and confide in. When she got old enough I would be the protective older brother, standing between her and the pain and confusion of adolescence. Then, when she was old enough, her husband. Her partner.

I would later have twelve years to fully contemplate imprinting. I knew ever since that first phase about the effect imprinting would have. It was impossible for Sam not to think about it. I understood the immediate physical attraction and protectiveness that they felt for each other. But my imprinting was a different, many layered ordeal.

Claire was more than a soul mate; she was a best friend, a muse, a goddess, a vulnerable child that I loved more than life.

But beneath the meaning and feeling of this imprinting, was the horror.

I would be a liar if I said I wasn't scared. This just didn't happen in the world I used to live in. What would people think of us? How would they react to a fully grown man spending all his time with a child? Would they think I was a criminal, a pedophile? Yes, that word did run through my mind. It had grown into a dark horrifying thing in my mind, an impossibility. I would never, _never_ hurt Claire. I would die before I even contemplated it. No one would know how I felt, how _it_ felt, except my brothers.

And what about Claire? Was this in any way fair to her? Would I hold her back? Would she be ashamed of me? Would she hate me when she found out the truth? Would she be disgusted and terrified? What about when she was older, what about her choice of who to date and love and marry? What if I got in her way deprived her of the life she deserved?

That moment had stretched on for centuries and was brought to an end by Claire. Or rather, her struggle to free herself from Emily's tight hold. She was kicking and screaming like an animal with its foot caught in a trap. Emily was forced to set her down so she could keep her arm.

Claire stood there for a moment looking into my eyes. Oh Lord, she was a beautiful little thing. She had tight, glossy black curls acting as a halo. Her eyes were so large and luminous with the thickest longest lashes I had ever seen. Her mouth was very full and pouting, with dimples blossoming on either side. Her skin was a softer, paler shade than most of the tribes. Like coffee with lots of cream and sugar. She wore a baby blue dress with little flowers dotting it.

As she stared intently into my eyes I knew that despite her age and comprehension, she had felt it. She had felt the light and heat flare, seen the future, and experienced gravity pulling us together. As much as she belonged to me, forever and always, so did I to her. She loved me.

At the same moment as I fell to my knees, she ran across the room. Before time could start again she was in my arms. And so perfectly did she fit. Her arms squeezing my neck and her face buried in my shoulder. One of my hands pressed against her small back and the other cradled her head. Her soft hair felt warm against my shocked skin. We were both breathing heavily as I rocked us back and forth. The movement soothing us both.

She pulled away so she could look at my face. Her arms left my neck so she could place her hands against my cheeks, her little fingers pressing into my face. Her eyes were locked with mine. Her forehead came to rest against mine. Our breaths matched in time and our heartbeats matched in rhythm.

In that moment it was just me and Claire. And love, so much love that it felt like water in the air. Hard to breathe. No one else existed. I never wanted to leave that moment, where I had found peace. Found Claire, at last.

Things of the earthly world began to filter in: voices, movements, sounds. I opened my eyes to see twelve pairs of eyes watching us. Emily had her hand over her mouth, utterly shocked. Jake looked stricken. Leah looked sick. Sam looked weary. The rest of them didn't seem to fully understand what was happening.

My attention was brought back to Claire as she touched her index finger to the tip of my nose. She then did the most amazing, out of this world thing. She smiled, what world did that smile come from?, and said, clear and precise, "Love."

In unison the entire room gasped. Those who had not understood before did now. How else could a two year old know what that word really meant? How else could she say with so much conviction? I smiled just as widely in response.

Like that the moment shattered. Everyone was saying something at once. People were moving about trying to get to Sam. They converged towards me and Claire. Everyone wanted an explanation. But I couldn't give them one, and neither could Claire.

Without a thought I ran to the spare bedroom, Claire in my arms. Behind us our names floated, called by everyone. I distinctly remember Jacobs's voice, above the others.

I closed the door and locked it. I stood against it and looked at Claire. Her eyes told me so much. I slid down the door to sit on the floor. There she curled up on my lap and closed her eyes, her ear against my heart.

I rocked her and hummed a song I had never heard, something beautiful. She quickly fell asleep, the movement and vibrations soothing. I stroked her hair and watched her doze.

I ignored the noise and pounding. I slumped over on the ground, with Claire still tightly against my chest. I soon found my own escape.

Claire in my arms. Claire in my soul. Claire in my dreams.


	7. Thump

**Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer, if i was i would be spending time with Edward not writing this.**

**Theme Music: One Day Robots Will Cry by Cobra Starship----Jakes Song: Pinball Wizard by The Who**

Chapter 7. Thump

Things started to look up when I got to the breakfast table the next morning. I had slept like a rock after the stress filled day and stalking night before. I woke with a feeling of home as the pale green-gray light came through the window. I sat up and stretched as I looked at the room I had spent the night in. Definitely the boy's room, it was too plain and messy to be one of the girls. I threw on some clothes and headed to the kitchen, my painfully empty stomach calling out for food.

I couldn't help but smile at the scene that met me; it was so much like a Hallmark card. Emily stood at the stove flipping pancakes, in her robe and slippers. Sam was sitting at the head of the table reading the newspaper and sipping coffee. The girls were shoveling food in, Tessa scrutinizing some homework and Cara texting on her cell phone.

Sam looked up from the paper and smiled at me. "Hey, Quil, sleep well?"

Emily snorted, almost imperceptibly, at the implication in his tone. The girls looked at me with two very different expressions, although neither looked surprised. Cara looked slightly suspicious, as if I had yet to pass her test of approval. Her intensity was more than discomforting, but not unmanageable. Tessa was the picture of awe, wide eyes, jaw dropped and all. She looked at me like I came from another planet, or a well told story come to life.

"Uh, hi everyone." I sat across from the girls, my movements self conscious. The seconds slowly passed as we stared at each other. They looked very different, now that I choose to look. Cara had the tight curls that seemed to run in the family, short and teased crazily. Her features were salient and regal, reminding me of Sam. She wore lots of make-up, eyeliner mostly, and dark colors. Tessa was the complete opposite. Her hair was long and pin straight, her features rounded and infant like. She wore a bright pink T-shirt and painted her nails neon yellow and purple. 

"Say hello to Quil girls." Emily said authoritatively.

"Hi," Tessa said dreamily. Leaning forward, practically lying on her syrupy plate.

Cara scowled, the face of disapproval. "What should I call you _Quil_."

The entire room tensed. Sam and Emily both frowned knowingly. Tessa tore her gaze from my face, to look at Cara in utter shock. I felt caught in the middle of a family struggle. I looked from face to face, confused and concerned.

"Well, Mom?" Cara said turning to Emily. "What should I call him? Should I call him _Uncle?"_

Emily opened her mouth but Cara cut her off.

"Are we really going to go down that road again, Mom? I don't think I can take anymore surprises, this life time around anyway. What about _brother_? Or, _protector_? Oh, I know, how about, _dog_?" Cara finished her little rant by forcibly pushing back her chair, grabbing her backpack and slamming out the front door. 

"What is wrong with her?" Tessa asked, staring at me again. I looked to Emily, having had enough of these girls attention for today.

"Get going, Tessa, you're going to miss the bus."

After she left I voiced my thoughts into the silence, "What was that all about?"

Emily came to sit at the table, shaking her head, lost in thought. Sam answered me first, "Cara found out about the pack a couple weeks ago. In a very compromising and unfortunate way."

"She's having a hard time adjusting." Emily whispered staring off into space. "She feels cheated, left out for so long and yet still on the outskirts."

I panicked at their words, I don't know why. Maybe it was more of the story, more of the pack history that I had not been present for and knew nothing about. Still, I changed the subject.

"What's going on today?" I sounded forced but didn't care.

Sam grinned, almost involuntarily. "Oh, you'll see." His ominous words were followed immediately by the sound of a car pulling up. Just like the night before, when I was reunited with Sam, I marveled at the physical manifestation of the pack. The strange relaxation and lifting of spirit. But underneath the heavenly relief, was immeasurable ecstasy. 

I shot out of my seat, so much like yesterday, ran, and ripped open the door. "JAKE!"

He was just stepping out of his car and held open his arms. "Well, well, well if it isn't Quil-y-poo. Oh, come home to mama, Quil-y-kins!"

My grin became sarcastic but still I ran into his arms, a mockery of famous movie moments. We both laughed and tried to swing each other around, struggling as the other did the same. It felt like the sun was out, shining on us. Or maybe something else was shining; maybe it was a second chance. 

"Oh, Jake," I said as I grabbed his face in a hard grip. "You don't know how glad I am to see your ugly face."

He laughed as well as he could with his mouth shut and managed to struggle away. "What are you talking about? This face? The face that launched a thousand ships?" He rubbed his jaw.

I laughed, carefree and light. "Yeah, that one. So what motive did you have to drag your ugly ass over here?" 

He raised his eyebrows. "I came to drag your lonely ass home."

I felt comprehension light like a match. "Oh, you don't say…"

Me and Jake were 18 when we got the red house. We had had our eyes on it for a year, but weren't legal yet. That was a big joke for a while, how we could buy alcohol without suspicion but couldn't rent a house. The day after Jakes birthday we signed the papers. The next day we moved in.

It was a two story ranch style house, with a seventies vibe to the architecture. Three bedrooms, two baths, a large basement, deck, patio, attic. It suited us and soon became a home to the entire pack. There were acres of untouched forest touching on three sides, perfect for phasing at all hours of the day.

Two years later the owner, a man who had grown up here and then decided to move to Seattle, had decided to move back with his new wife. Our bliss and independence fizzled as we found ourselves moving back in with our parents, our funds too low to find a new place. But we always remembered that house. It represented the happier, simpler times. When we were in our prime. 

It hadn't changed in 13 years. The roof sagged slightly and the paint was peeling, but other than that, it was exactly the same. I walked through the rooms, something building in my chest. Déjà vu blew in my head. Jake had re-created how the house had been in those days, down to the paint and posters on the walls. To the ratty third-hand furniture we had been so fond of, and the 80's refrigerator we had found on the side of the road.

I walked into Jakes old and current room and dropped into the holey bean bag chair under the Ramones poster. Like living in a memory. "You must have a photographic memory to have achieved this, Jake. I mean, an unopened Corn Nuts packet is behind the dryer."

Jake laughed as he typed away on his laptop. "No that was still there! Good old, Mr. Wilkinson handed me the keys and that was the first thing I thought of, weirdly enough. I laughed my ass off for about an hour and even took a picture, thinking I would throw it away later and never did. Now I would never throw Nuts away."

I raised my eyebrows. "Nuts?"

He shrugged. "Nuts, testicles, tomato to-ma-to."

I barked a laugh. He turned to me, smiling familiarly. "What can I say, I'm a literal kind of guy."

Just then a small tinkling version of The Clash's White Man in Hammersmith Palais reached our ears. Jake took a sleek black cell phone out of his pocket, checked the screen and answered happily. "Hello-ello, Helen of Troy here..." his voice was high and sexy.

I snickered as I appraisingly looked over his CD collection, his voice now muffled. "No I didn't know that…it didn't come up yet…What? Oh, shit…how long ago?... Well, what did you say?... I'm not there right now."

By now I was watching him, an itch magnifying deep under my skin. "Don't worry we'll get there. … Yeah, ten minutes, we're at the house…Ok, see you tonight, bye."

The sound the phone made as it shut echoed in the silence. He stared intensely at it, the ever present smile melting down his face. He looked through me with ancient eyes.

"Well, Quil, I can say right now that you aren't going like this. I can also say that in about ten seconds your going to feel like your heads going to explode with euphoria…"

I counted my heartbeats. One, two, three, four, five…

"Emily just called…"

_Thump._ Six._ Thump. _Seven._ Thump. _Eight._ Thump._ Nine._ Thump. _Ten.

"Claire's looking for you."

Boom.

Jake refused to let me drive, the traitor. He said I wasn't fit to be behind the vehicle in my state, which was swinging from intense joy to glooming depression. I couldn't keep my thoughts straight in my head, or my emotions. On one hand, I was the happiest I had ever been. This was _Claire_ we were talking about, _my_ Claire. I hadn't spent real, quality time with her in twelve years. On the other hand, I was confused, still guilty and angry at myself and my family for reasons I could not at this point in time connect with.

"Quil," Jake said seriously as he went down the road at a frustratingly slow pace. "I know that you don't want to hear this at the moment, but take a breath and calm the hell down. You are in no way fit to see her at this moment, that is, without her thinking that you are mentally incompetent."

I was in the anger stage of grief at this minute. "Don't tell me what to do! You have no idea what I'm feeling and have no right to tell me to stop. God, Jacob, this is CLAIRE we're talking about. Of course, I'm not entirely sane right now!"

Then as if to prove my point, my mood swung to sunny optimism. "Claire is coming, my Claire, to see me…That's what Emily said right, that it was me she was looking for?"

Jake looked at me concernedly, as if I was a grenade and he wasn't sure if I was going to blow up now or later. He answered my slowly, "Yes, that's what Emily said."

I grinned deliriously, my hand on the door handle for a speedy get away. "Wow, I can't believe this is happening. I mean, I thought that when I came here that she would…well, I don't know what I thought, but not this. I mean, _she_ must want to see me just as much as I want to see her."

I fell silent as the doubts weighted down my spirit. No, that couldn't be it. It had to be bad, my luck had run out over a decade ago. What if she remembered? What if she thought I was strange? What if, and this was the worst because it gave me the falsest of hopes, she felt the gravity and the heat between us?

Jake seemed to become even more perturbed by my silence than my ranting. "Quil, are you sure…"

He noticed what I was staring at from my prostrate posture and bugged out eyes. We were coming up on Jakes Garage, a car repair shop that the whole pack worked at but was owned by Jake. He had opened it two years before I left, but now what caught my attention was not the business, it was the parking lot. Or, more specifically, the car in the parking lot. Claire's car.

As he pulled in I twisted wildly around in my seat as I searched for her. I nearly ripped off the door of the car as I rushed to get out. I heard Jake swearing about the damage I would cause us all. 

I felt her before I saw her. That pull of my insides, but most acutely my heart, to where she was. The carbonated fizzle in my veins as my soul struggled to join her. I hadn't felt such strong anticipation in so long, that it almost frightened me. 

When I turned to the huge bay garage doors I caught sight of my very reason for existence. She was walking between an SUV and a Mercedes to get out, with one hand riffling through her jacket pocket and the other in her hair. Her beautifully shiny, sharply waving and curling, newly shortened (or at least to me) dark hair. Her heavy lashes lifted and gifted me with the sight of her angels gaze.

_Thump_…………………………………………………………….. 


	8. First Glimpse

_Yay, twenty reviews, thank you! Happy (belated) Easter! Sorry, i planned to update yesterday, but family bonding kept me busy. I want to say a million thankyous to all the people who alerted, reviewed and favorited. I would love to hear some feed back: what do you like of dislike about this, who do you want to see more of, what confuses or excites you and what about the Music? Speaking of i have the first four chapters songs up on my profile._

_Theme Music: Life Is Short by Butterfly Boucher_

Chapter 8. First Glimpse

I am not, what one would call, a very spontaneous person

I am not, what one would call, a very spontaneous person. Anyone would say that I am not the type of girl who, say, bungee jumps or gets a tattoo. In fact, I'm scared of both heights and needles. By nature I'm cautious, and for most of my life have been thankful for it. Now, though, as I race down an endless road to my future, I wish I had done more to prepare myself for driving off the edge. I wish I had learned to deal with change better, like dying my hair auburn or painting my bedroom walls red.

I was slowly beginning to panic as I realized spontaneity is something better done after practice. First of all, it was 12:30 in the afternoon, which means I could get in trouble for not being in school. Second, I had no idea where to find him. Third, I had three dollars in my wallet and no debit card. And, the icing on the cake, with every passing second I was starting to feel more and more like a stalker as I ran through all his possible locations.

The only reliable place would be Emily's, because I knew he had been there and because I couldn't think of anything else. With the sort of recklessness that came with an adrenaline rush I went thirty miles over the speed limit getting to the house. I came to a jerky stop about twenty feet from the house and took a second to take a breath for courage.

Without thinking I passed the front door, went around the side of the house and headed into the backyard garden. Aunt Emily was kneeling next to her cleared plot, preparing it for the planting that would happen in a couple weeks when the ground thawed and air warmed. Again, I faltered not far from her but managed to creakily continue.

"Aunt Emily?" I asked as quietly as possible. She turned normally, but her expression was shocked. She set her tools down and brushed her hands on her jeans before pulling me into a tight, enthusiastic hug. I hugged her awkwardly as I was at least five inches taller than her.

She pulled away and smiled warmly. "Claire, what are you doing here?"

"Well…" Her face became concerned as she detected my awkwardness. I closed my eyes and just decided to spit it out. In an almost unintelligible stream I explained, "I picked him up on the side of the road not knowing who he was but trusting him anyway. I don't know what happened in that twenty minutes, but all I know is that I can't help but think that it's important. And today it hit me that if I don't get to know him that I might miss out on the greatest thing that could ever happen to me. So, I skipped class and drove out here and since I gave him a ride here I thought that you might know where he is."

Her brow was furrowed as she met my ranting with incredulous silence. She brushed some springy curls out of my eyes and lightly touched my forehead. Her eyes held something like pain, or was it regret? A sad smile touched her lips and I couldn't take it anymore.

"Aunt Emily, _please_, I wish I could explain better. I wish the words would come out right, but there aren't words are there? There can't be a word for this; I _need _to know where he is." Within a second she had pulled me into a tighter hug, and just as quickly pulled away.

She whispered her words with glittering tears in her eyes. "Jake picked him up this morning; I imagine they'll be at the garage."

Excitedly I kissed her cheek and practically ran to my car.

"Claire!" I turned to find that same sad smile on her lips. "I know how you're feeling, and I know you and him. I know this is something that neither of you will take lightly, both of you are too honest for that. But, Claire, I want you to promise me that you won't let this tear you apart if something goes wrong."

His smiling face flashed in my mind, illuminated by the setting sun coming thorough the wind shield. The look in his dark green gold eyes as he gazed at me, making my stomach flip and breath catch. Involuntarily I grinned at the memory. I looked Emily in the eye and said what was at the tip of my tongue. "Don't worry, Aunt Emily, what could go wrong?"

Apparently a lot. I searched futilely around the garage, in Jake's office, the break room and even the bathroom. I was getting desperate so I lowered myself to asking Seth. I walked warily to the car he was under at the moment. I stood there for a minute hoping he would notice me and initiate the conversation. Of course, he was oblivious to me.

I sighed. "Seth?" I said with as much patience I could muster.

I heard a grunt and more tool sounds. "Who is it?"

I rolled my eyes in disgust. "It's Claire, could you come out of there I need to ask you something?"

He rolled enough from the car so that I could see his grinning face. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be in school?" He laughed at my scowling face. "Well, well, well, who would have known you had it in you?" He laughed and rolled back under.

I leaned against the car opposite his in exasperation. "Can you just tell me where Jake is?"

"I mean aren't you the girl who has perfect attendance all her years of school? Oh, yeah, I remember it now that picture up on your mantel of you in sixth grade with braces and braids with that award in your hands." A bark of laughter stopped the tool sounds. "Oh my god, and the training bra! You were wearing a white shirt and you could totally see your training bra!"

"Seth!" I cried outraged. God, he was so immature.

"And it's in the year book, so that picture will live forever!" His laughing turned to a whimper when I kicked him in the shin as hard as I could. He swore violently and his hand shot out from under the car to grip his knee.

I threateningly swung my leg back and raised my eyebrows. "Where is Jacob?"

"God, when did you get so violent?" He shut up when I proceeded to bring my foot forward. "He has the day off; he's probably at the house!"

I immediately swung around and headed for the large garage doors. Yanking my hands through my hair in frustration at another fifteen minutes wasted. I started rummaging around in my fleece pocket for my cell phone. I heard the familiar sound of Jakes old school Rabbit pull up and looked up eagerly.

Oh, shit, there he was. He stood by the trunk, his tall muscular frame strangely tense as he watched me slow to a jerky stop just outside the garage doors. We stared like that for timeless seconds. He wore a white t-shirt under a button down green flannel bringing out his eyes, all over a pair of perfectly worn in jeans. His hair was neither short nor long, and wasn't spiked or hanging in his eyes. It brushed his forehead in a messy way, and I had an overwhelming urge to put my hands in it and push it back. His strong, masculine features were perfect and beautiful in a serious yet carefree way.

The sound of Jake clearing his throat made us both jump in surprise. We tore our gazes from each others faces to see the mocking expression in his eyes. He grabbed Quil's arm and dragged his stiff body towards me. Fighting down a blush, I moved a few reluctant feet forward, my eyes on the ground. A good seven feet were between us, but I could still feel Quil's presence as if he was on top of me. Oh, god, that thought made me blush more profusely.

Jakes mockery was turning to amusement as he turned to me from watching Quil. "Why, hello Claire, funny seeing you here!" His smile was unnaturally large. I stared at the ground harder.

The seconds ticked by. "How rude of me, I forgot to introduce my old friend here! This is, as I said, a very old and dear friend of mine, Quil Ateara. I don't believe you've met Claire Moses before, have you Quil?"

I glanced at Quil's face to see him flinch and look confusedly at Jake. "Um…" He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, we both looked away quickly. His soft baritone voice continued huskily. "No, we, uh, met yesterday when Claire, um, gave me a ride to Sam's."

The mock surprise on Jakes face was painful. "Oh my, what a coinky-dink! So Claire what brings you to this neck of the woods?"

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. Shit. What was I supposed to say that I was pining after him? That since yesterday I couldn't stop thinking about him and that lead me to skipping school and running around La Push looking for him? I couldn't do it, the very thought made me feel like I was going to throw up. So I said the first thing that popped into my mind. "I came to see you Jake."

They were both staring at me like I had just said that I was going to dig a tunnel to China. Jake frowned and looked at Quil whose face was now twisted away and out of my sight. He turned his back to me and brought his hand to his face. Jake turned to me with a half-hearted attempt at a smile awkwardly pasted on his face. "Why, Claire Bear, I'm flattered. Little old me, really? What did I do to deserve the honor?"

I put all my nervous energy into concentrating on Jake. "You should have heard the latest buzz at school about your exploits. When I heard it I couldn't believe it, I mean you and Ms. Blozinsky the 50 year old cat loving ceramics teacher out on a date Saturday night? It was really too shocking, so I skipped lunch and study hall to come over and ask you myself. So, is it true?"

His strange gaze was unreadable as he answered me almost without thinking. "Well, dear one, I don't want to sully that innocent mind of yours with my affairs, but I find I must tell you the truth. I, am a lonely man. I have very little in my life, outside the garage and internet porn, so every once in awhile I find myself out on dates with, admittedly, older and less attractive women." I grinned at this and he continued with more enthusiasm. "Yes, Suzie and I are, how shall I put this, the _closest_ of friends. I have even gotten used to the smell of cat urine and the fact that she is twice my age and size. I think we will be very happy together."

I couldn't help but laugh a little. I was surprised though at his last comment. "Don't you have Calculus and Civics the last two hours of the day?"

Now I was the one hiding my face as it became redder and redder. "No, my schedule changed at the end of fall semester."

"Ooooo-kaaayyyy…." Jake said as he observed our similar postures, turned away and defensive. "Well, I have an idea, how about we go get a bite to eat?"

I answered before I could change my mind. "Sure."

Jake slapped Quil on the shoulder as he turned around. "What do you say, Quil Bill, to a burger at Ruby's Diner?"

Quil's face was blank and impassive. "Alright."  
We all started walking south down Washington Ave. to the diner. Somehow I ended up in the middle, between the two overlarge men. I crossed my arms over my chest in an attempt to make myself smaller. I hadn't fully grasped until now how large Quil was. I mean, I had never been close enough to do the comparisons of ourselves. I was considered very tall at 5'10, but he had to be almost a whole foot taller. Not to mention his musculature, for a lack of a better word. So I found myself accidentally brushing arms, shoulders or even hands in one instant, where we both pulled away. The contact barely warranted the word but I still felt the stinging heat on the edge of my pinky.

A blonde middle aged waitress with nicotine stains on her fingers seated us and gave us our menus. We settled into the booth next to the window facing the street, me on one side and the boys on the other. I followed their example and looked at the menu, but didn't plan on ordering anything as I had already had lunch. I found myself surreptitiously looking at Quil as he looked over the choices; the way he sat leaning on his elbows, the hand in his wavy blue black hair.

"Nothing." I answered when the waitress came to take our order. I could almost see her restraining herself from rolling her eyes. She then turned her bloodshot gaze to Quil, "And you?"

His head shot up and looked at the waitress with uncertainty. "Uh…" he looked down at the menu like the right one would have a flashing arrow saying 'Pick Me'. "I'll have the same."

He then seemed to notice our stares. Jake just laughed and handed our menus to the waitress and said, "Three baskets of fries, three burgers, and three Cokes."

"I'm not eating any of that food Jake." I said when the waitress had left.

Jake smiled sweetly, "You don't have to, that's just a mid afternoon snack for me and Quil."

I started to rip apart a napkin. "Oh, yes, however could I have forgotten your gluttonous eating habits when I have last Christmas burned in my brain," I said dryly.

Jake grew almost teary eyed at the memory, "Ahhh, such a proud day for me."

"What about last Christmas?" asked Quil and I shivered at the sound of his soft, honey voice.

Jacobs's posture completely changed as he got ready to tell of his greatest achievement. "It was held at Emily's as always, of course, and I came single, as always. I felt myself growing lonely so I befriended Roger."

"The 25 lb. turkey Emily was making." I clarified for Quil's sake.

"Yes, so as everyone was enjoying time with their spouses and children, I talked with Roger. I told him about my childhood; my favorite power ranger, my obsession with Spider Man, and, of course, my invisible friend Osho."

I caught Quil's confused gaze. "All after seven beers."

"Nine." Jake corrected. "So, obviously, I got very upset come dinner time. How could I let these monsters eat my best friend and soul mate like that? I kicked and I screamed, and almost dislocated Paul's left arm when he reached to take Roger from my hands. Well, after that, as your can imagine, they started to attack me. Let me tell you, Quil, hyenas all of them. I was even forced to make a shield of our dear Claire here."

"Don't worry," I said as I took a sip of water. "No physical damage done…only emotional."

Quil grinned (my heart contracted at the sight of it) and Jake continued. "So I did the only thing I could do, I ran away with him. Off into the night with my lover I went, and never looked back."

Me and Quil laughed. "Until the next morning that is," I finished. "Where he woke up with a hangover, lying in the snow near the cliffs with Rogers bones scattered around him."

Quil looked at Jacob truly awed. "You ate your 25 lb. gay lover Roger?"

Jakes face was comically solemn. "I still say that a wild beast must have taken him in the night. Out of my bosom and my life."

"I was the one who found him, without a jacket or shoes buried by the nights snowfall with the turkey carcass on top. When we finally got him home he kept muttering 'where is he, my love' and then he got sick. There Roger went down the drain." My eyes locked with Quil's as I said this and found I couldn't look away. Something about the way he looked at me, like I was the center of everything, a shinning sun or star of his universe, made me incapable of movement.

At which point the waitress unceremoniously slammed the food down on the table and stalked away. I watched as the boys did what I expected them to; stuff their faces until they had curbed their hunger. It was too weird that even watching him eat made me want him so desperately.

But what did I want? A friend, a boyfriend, a soul mate? What did I expect to come of this? What about him, how did he feel about me?

I watched as the food faded away, looking like it seemed to fall into the table and disappear. I nibbled on a fry as they finished and prepared myself for more talk. Jake started to lick his fingers obscenely, and I grinned disgusted.

"So, our Fair Claire, what sayest you of our nights tryst?" asked Jake in a ridiculous Renaissance accent.

I frowned as I tried to figure out what he meant, and then it hit me. "Oh, you mean the Spring BBQ. I had forgotten, but your right today's the first day of spring."

Jake looked to Quil. "Even more special than usual, with Quil's return. What do you say to that, old chape?" Here Jacob slapped Quil's shoulder and gave him a challenging smile. "It's a tradition we started in your wake, where everyone gets together and eat outrageous amounts of red meat, dance, catch up and have a golly good time."

Quil was looking at me though, with the cutest quizzical look wrinkling his brow. "Sounds fun."

"It's always fun because of our Claire here," Jake said making my stomach twist into knots. "Her yearly performance leaves all of us under her spell."

I stared down at the cracked formica table top, feeling Quil's gaze bore into my skull. Could I do it this year, with those eyes on me the entire time?

"Oh, shit," I looked up to see Jake fumbling with his wallet. "I don't have any cash. Could you guys wait while I go to the ATM I saw outside?"

He got up and started to walk away, but turned around to look on us. He seemed to drink in the image of us two sitting there; restrained and uncomfortable, but inexorably drawn to each other. He sighed with satisfaction and then quickly retreated to the grey outdoors.

We were alone. Silent. Hungry in a way that was completely new to me. Everytime I cast a sidelong glance to him, there his dark green gold eyes would be; tasting my soul. Making me shiver and fly out of my skin with the _wanting_. To know him, touch him, him to touch me, to hand myself over like I had never imagined wanting to before. Everything I had, I was on the cusp of laying before him.

My heart beat was erratic. My temperature was spiking. I was very nearly sweating, my flushed skin moist. Without thinking I struggled free from my light grey fleece jacket.

It wasn't until it was down to my wrists, bearing my shoulders and arms, that I realized what I was wearing. A shirt I had bought three years ago before I had got sprinkled with puberty fairy dust. My chest, disproportionably large compared with the rest of my bodies waif ness, nearly broke the seams of the low cut black top. The neckline dipped low enough to strongly hint at what was underneath, and show the bold lines of my (also old and too small) bra. The shirt had no sleeves and my thin arms immediately got goose bumps at the cool air outside the jacket.

The goose flesh only multiplied when I quickly glanced up to see if he had noticed, and met Quil's torrid gaze. There I got the first glimpse of what one could only call

Lust.

* * *


	9. An Equally Persuasive Head

_I doubled my reviews from last chapter! As for this one, I hope you appreciate how I dived into the male psychy (a dark, sinister gutter of a mind) to find out what Quil was a thinkin. I also tried to get the manly banter down (Jake is pretty disgusting, but you already knew that), I am not a guy but i tried. I find i must,_ must_ **must** recommend a fanfic that i believe to be one of the absolute best: _**caracol's**_ A rite of passage, it will make you laugh and cry and keep you up at night, a master piece. I've been puting out good review karma, so send some my way!_

_Theme Music: Multiply by Jamie Lidell (snicker...pun intended)_

Chapter 9. An Equally Persuasive Head

I felt a fire burning in the pit of my stomach and coursing through my veins. A rush of blood to a different, but equally persuasive, head.

I want to clear something up, I haven't felt this way in 15 years. Before Claire had entered my life I had been like any other hot blooded male. Single minded to the point of being disabled about one thing: sex. You know how studies have shown that men think of sex every seven seconds, well, I was no different. Many sweaty nights were spent in my bed fantasizing about any and every girl. After imprinting though things changed.

I am not the first to imprint on an infant, but I am the only one at present. How I felt for Claire was not in any way romantic. It was the simplest, purest form of love there could be. This did not mean however that I continued to fantasize about sex like I had before. In fact, it is only now as I look at her so matured and womanly, that these carnal urges have risen again. Claire is my life, even when she was a child she was the greatest love I had ever known, and I never looked at any female with anything than courtesy and disinterest.

Because our relationship was so strange and rare, I had always thought of our relationship as a sort of onion (not the most appealing vegetable, but work with me here). At the very center, she was the most beloved thing, most perfect being the human race had ever turned out. On top of that were the obvious things: I was her protector, her playmate, her friend, someone to keep her happy at all times, etc. Now that she was all grown up, and in every way a woman, new layers were added on top of the base layers. Words like lover, partner, boyfriend and husband ran through my mind.

A war was raging in my head as every sexual fantasy I had ever had came to the fore front with a vengeance, with Claire in the staring role. Truthfully, if we weren't in a public place with so many people around, I probably would have jumped her right then and there.

"Well, chickadees, I just spent three hard earned dollars to extract _my own_ money out of an automated bank teller, what kind of sick masochistic devil child came up with that logic?" Jakes sarcastic shout from across the restaurant violently brought me out of the fantasy of jumping Claire that was playing over and over in my mind.

The jarring impact of Jacob crashing into me when he threw himself back into the booth finally made me look away from Claire and her…,uh…upper torso. For a few seconds I watched Jake count out the money for the check that had been set on the table some time during my sexual awakening.

Clumsily and as quickly as she could, Claire pulled her jacket back on. Uselessly though, as I could already tell I was going to have that image burned in my head until I died. That skin tight black shirt would do wonders to my sanity. The large expanse of creamy latte skin of her chest, shoulder and throat I just knew would be like silk. The swell of her breasts above the neckline of her top fogged my brain and pulled at the pit of my stomach. The curve where her long, graceful neck met her delicate shoulders. The sensual line of her collar bone and toned arms.

Shit, I had to keep my head out of that gutter or I would look like a fecking dolt. "Ready?" I asked without meeting Jakes imploring gaze.

Claire jumped out the booth and turned to leave before either of us could have moved. "I am." She said breathlessly.

Jake narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously, but didn't push the subject at the moment. We followed her out and Jake was in the middle as we walked back to the garage, so there was no opportunity to 'accidentally' brush hands or bump into each other.

Our pace slowed as we neared the parking lot, preparing for our goodbyes. I hung back slightly, like my new found hunger was detected only when being near me. Claire brought her keys and fiddled with them, a morose expression darkening her brow.

With a sort of random abruptness I always associated with Jake, he pulled her into a rough hug and laughed. "Why so glum, Little Plum? I know what amazing company I am, but I'll see you in a few hours."

Claire made her frown/smile face that I still remembered so well, her mouth screwed up but tuned up at the corners. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking about you and Susie."

Jake faked disgust. "Yes, that old hag's face does tend to induce nausea to those unlucky ones with a clear mental picture." They then got even closer, and even though it was completely platonic, I felt my eyes glaze over with jealousy and hands ball into fists.

"You know, Jake," she said as she pulled away to give him a genuine smile "I really am looking forward to tonight. I'll never forget last year's drunken performance of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds done on the roof without pants."

Jake sighed. "Yet, another shining moment of brilliance."

Claire laughed. "Of which there are so many. Well, I gotta get home, so this is bye." She stepped back and selected her key.

"Toodle loo, oh, and, Doll Face?"

"Yes?" Claire said in a knowing voice.

"It never would have worked out between us." He backed away, his arms thrown up in defeat. "I mean me and Susie are like this." He then proceeded to make an obscene gesture with his hands.

Claire laughed it off, like she had heard it all from him before. As she walked past me to her car, standing still and silent through their entire altercation, she looked up into my face. It was a split second, a movie still, but one that gave me hope. The twinkle in her velvety brown eyes, her dark brown curls blowing in the wind, the soft content smile on her full lips. Her lilting, melodic voice saying, "See you around, Quil."

The play button was hit, time began again and she got in her car and drove away. An all too familiar image, one I had witnessed twice now, that I was growing to dread. Unconsciously I had placed my right hand over heart, as if to keep it from beating its way out of my chest. I wanted to hit the replay button, but life didn't come with such luxuries did it?

"Life to the Desperately Obsessed?" I looked over to see Jake standing next to his open car door with an annoyed look on his face. "The Puppy Dog Faced Ass Wipe of a Man? The Cockerel Eating Eunich? The―"

"Shut the fuck up, Jake! I get it." I turned around, opened the passenger door and got in. Jake silently pulled out of the parking lot, blissfully quiet, in wait of my blow up.

"What the _hell_ was that?" There it was. Jake politely turned down the Styx that was in the CD player, even though I was yelling. "What just happened? Just now?"

His eyes on the road, Jake answered me softly. "We just had lunch with Claire."

"Yeah, but…god, shit I can't think!" I was pulling my hair out. "I mean how did everything turn out this way? How do you know her so well? Why did she come and then deny why she came? When did she start to look like that? Why couldn't I talk to her? How come she―"

"Slow down, man," the worried look on his face and shock in his eyes made me ashamed of yelling at him. I rested my head against the head rest and rubbed my eyes in an attempt to calm myself down. "Now, how about we take this one question at a time?"

"Fine." I groaned.

"Alright, how did things turn out this way? Well, you can answer that yourself, you were shit-faced scared and pig headed so you did the most idiotic thing you have ever done and left twelve years ago. Life didn't stop without you Quil, she grew up and moved on as children do, which is entirely your fault. Now the fact that she doesn't remember you, or what you two had, is understandable. Her being scared and confused is also reasonable."

With every word he said I sank deeper into the grave I had dug for myself. "Yeah, your right."

"As for knowing her so well, that should be obvious. You didn't leave her with a loving family and loads of 'normal' people. Her mom fell down the bottle and her dad only spent enough time in their house to shower and get clean clothes to bring back to the office where he slept. So, the only ones left were the pack, we were all she had left." He noticed the fury in my eyes. "Hey, don't give me that look, you can't tell us what to do and you can't have kept us from giving that little girl a life."

"I really screwed things up didn't I Jake?" My head fell into my hands.

"More than you can know." Jake said sorrowfully. "So for every birthday, Christmas, Fourth of July, Easter, Halloween and Valentines Day we were there. We are her _family_ Quil, when you're here and when you're not. Yeah, we know each other as well as brother and sister, because I, once again, was here while you weren't."

My head was spinning. Twelve birthdays, twelve Christmases, twelve Easters, twelve Halloweens…

"I imagine she didn't say anything about coming to see you, because she didn't understand it herself. She was probably just as embarrassed and nervous and scared as you were, without knowing the reason why."

"Of course." I muttered.

"What was your next question?"

"Uhhh…" I got a mental image of her that top that should have been illegal. "Well, when did she start to look…so…like that? Jesus, Jacob she is _amazing_, a goddess. I couldn't think my way out of a paper bag in there."

Jake smirked as he pulled into his, no our, driveway. "Mother Nature hit about four years ago as suspected. Don't worry though, the guys and I have been watching over her to make sure no pimpled faced adolescents get the wrong idea."

"Thanks." I sighed with relief.

"We didn't do it for you," Jake snorted as he slammed his car door shut. "You don't deserve her, you moronic douche."

"Amen, Brother." I said as we walked into the house.

"So what's tonight about exactly?" I asked as I started unpacking, which consisted of upending my bags and plugging in my CD player, while Jake lounged in a vomit orange Lazyboy reading _Spin_ magazine.

"Other than a reason to get rip roaring drunk, make a fool of yourself and be self deprecating?" Jake asked, immersed in one of the articles.

I grunted as I peeled some underwear from a T-shirt. Had I even washed these things before I left?

He dropped the magazine in his lap, perplexion twisting his features. "You know, I'm not sure. It's just a reason to get together, you know between New Years and Easter."

"Yeah," I said as I attempted to separate the clean clothes from the dirty ones. "But Easter's in like a week or two."

"Whatever, Emily's the one who puts it together." He glanced at his watch. "We gotta leave in a half hour, so you might want to wash away the self loathing with a shower."

"Thanks for the advice." I smelled a few shirts before I found one that didn't make me gag.

"And you might want to stop thinking with your penis, neither of you are ready for that." He heaved himself out of the depths of ancient chair and walked to the door where he stopped and turned around. "Come to think of it, the Spring BBQ was Claire's idea."

I stiffened with the clothes in my arms, ready for the shower. "Really?"

His eyes were far away, his mouth pulling into a smile. "Yeah, she was in like second or third grade, and she missed seeing everybody. So she got Emily to agree, set the date and sent these homemade invitations out to everybody. The deal was that everybody had to come and have fun and nobody could be sad after it was done. She was adamant that there would be dancing and food and story telling. She just wanted everybody to be happy and together, to be a family. She's like that, you know, loves everybody so much?"

I stood there long after he left taking deep breaths and thinking. No, I realized with a pang of loss, I didn't really know what she was like anymore.

On my way to the bathroom, I found a picture hanging on the wall. It was of Claire's seventh birthday party. The theme seemed to be The Little Mermaid; an Ariel cake, undersea decorations and even a gigantic stuffed Flounder that Jake was necking in the edge of the photograph. Claire was sitting on Sam's gigantic shoulders in the middle, above everyone else. I saw the entire pack, wives, children, parents and friends. The grin on Claire's face was huge, unrestrained and ecstatic.

I showered quickly, dressed and went downstairs to where Jake was yelling at me to 'quite admiring myself in the mirror like a fruit cake and get the hell down here'. All the while thanking whatever higher being there existed for my kind, for my family and their affinity to love so grandly. And for this second chance, which hopefully I wouldn't screw up as much as my first.


	10. Bringing Down the House, Pt 1

_Two things i've forgotten in previous A/N: 1) i'm on spring break, hence all these new chap.s (so don't get used to it) 2) to all those people who have said they feel sad for Quil and Claire, well don't, start feeling...**excited**. Sorry if there are mistakes, i'm rushing here._

_Party Music: See the World by The Kooks, Night of the Dancing Flame by Roisin Murphy, Mint Car by The Cure_

_Theme Music: Birds by Kate Nash, ()When You Say Nothing At All by Allison Krause and ()How Can I Keep From Singing by Enya_

* * *

Chapter 10. Bringing Down the House, Pt. 1

I was far too excited, more than would probably be considered healthy. I found myself pushing 55 on a 35 mph road in my attempt to get home as quickly as possible. I tried to plan everything out in my head to save time.

I didn't even take the keys out the ignition when I got out of the car, practically running to the front door. I managed to slam the door against the wall in my haste. I winced as it echoed in the silence.

"Claire, is that you?" I followed my moms voice to the living room. There I found her lying out on the coach, in her ever present robe with a bottle of red wine on the coffee table and a glass of ruby liquid in her hand. She was reading a paperback romance novel, the only books she would read. A happy ended was always granted.

I was practically jumping up and down as I explained to her in a rush. "Tonight's the Spring BBQ, so I gotta leave in an hour to help Emily set up. I'll be home around 11."

Her eyes were blank. "O.K." I turned around and skipped to the stairs when I heard her voice, loud and cracking at the higher pitch. "You know how I don't like you being away from home, especially so late. So get home quick and safe."

Her statement didn't merit a response, and neither did I wish to respond. My mother was such a strange person, her depression was so lengthy and concentrated. Her concern was often comical to me, when it was due. Like now, though, when it was unnecessary and insulting it angered me. A useless and childish anger, but still.

When in my room I looked through my wardrobe, trying my best to be optimistic. I hadn't been shopping for new clothes for almost a year, so that ¾ of them were too small and too short. What was left over were over sized in the first place or had recently been given as gifts. This is why my hands went immediately for the outfit Emily had gotten me for Christmas. The top was raw red silk; with cap sleeves, pearly buttons down the front, Victorian ruffles and a red silk belt tied to the side. The pants were just jeans, but really nice dark wash form-fitting skinny jeans, which made my legs look their best.

My shower was hurried and I'm not sure if I even used conditioner or not. I stood before my mirror trying to do my make-up right the first time around. As I went through the familiar emotions I had time to consider my face.

It didn't take me long as a teenager to figure out that the general population had a distorted idea of beauty. Everyone seemed to think that beauty was asymmetrical, relatively common features. Rounded eyes, thin short noses, high cheekbones and a small full mouth. What really made someone beautiful though were their differences from the norm. Quil's eyes and rough features made him beautiful to me. I wondered what he saw in me. My eyes were large, but almond shaped and dark. My nose was thin enough, but too long for my taste and went up a little at the end. My mouth was definitely full enough, too much for the normal standard of beauty.

I put some diffuser and leave in condition in to make my normally wild fly away curls plump and smooth. I pulled on Emily's outfit and paired it with an old pair of gold ballet flats. I liked the effect I saw the outfit had on me in the mirror. I looked older yet younger; sophisticated but fun. I grabbed my black leather purse and rushed out.

I managed to do a decent parallel parking job between Leah and Embry's cars on the street outside the house. It was lucky that Sam and Emily didn't have neighbors for a couple miles, because the cops would have been called years ago. Two different sound systems blasted the same song, the little kids in the backyard were screaming and the booming laughs of the men resonated in the encroaching forest. Every decoration from every holiday in existence had been put up all around the house and the trees. They were so bright and colorful that indoor lighting was unnecessary. It was always a sight to see and this year everything only seemed more loud and bright and colorful.

I passed a blow up Santa, a comical Cupid and a scowling ghost hanging from the roof as I made my way to the open front door. The house was packed and I knew the deck and backyard were the same. Absolutely everyone was there, and I felt nervous excitement build within. Family gatherings were generally used to make fun of eachother, which was funny when it was someone else, but horrifying when it was yourself.

My entrance was rewarded with dozens of "Hey!"s and "Welcome to the par-tay!"s and "Claire bo Blaire fe fi fo Flaire CLAIRE!!" (the last of which from a questionably sober Jake, of course). I accepted bear hugs from Sam, Jared and Jake. I suffered through a few good natured punches and shoves from Trevor, Matt and Connor.

Eventually I got swept away from the entrance way by Cara, her cousin Melody and their friend Jaclyn. They had of late become slightly annoying to me, mostly due to their age. The fact that they believed the world would end if they didn't get their clothes from Hollister or befriend the 'right' kind of people rubbed me the wrong.

"So," Cara said as she dragged me by the arm to the a corner of the dining room. "We were having a debate about something very important, and we thought you might have a say in the argument."

I looked through the crowd for a particular tall, dark and handsome guy. Unfortunately, the tribe had way too many of those. My eyes fell on Jake who was applying 2 inches of eyeliner in the hall mirror. Well, most of them were attractive. I answered distractedly, "Shoot."

"Ok, well," she forcibly pulled me down into a chair and forced me to face them, away from the party. "Melody had a date last Friday and we were using the baseball analogy to see how far her date got."

I gave up. "Baseball?"

Jaclyn piped up for the first time. "Yeah first base is like kissing—"

"And second is tongue." Said Cara.

"No, it's not!" Melody was adamant. "It's under the shirt."

Cara guffawed. "Then what's third base?"

"I always thought that third was like…you know…_touching_." Jaclyn put in her two bits sense.

I sighed, what had I done to deserve this torture? I threw my hands up to get their attention. "Hey, guys, quit it for a second so I can tell you."

They leaned in with expectant faces, like I was an oracle or something. I suppressed an eye roll as I explained. "First base is kissing. Second base is above the waist fondling. Third base is below the waist fondling. And you should all know what a home run is."

This was met with wide eyes and a chorus of 'ooh's. Jaclyn laughed then. "Melody is right it was second not third, Cara."

I tuned them out as I formed an escape plan. I was brought out of it by the direction their conversation went.

"…is so not hot, Melody! He's just like the rest of them." Cara scowled.

"You mean tall, muscular and painfully hot?" she smirked. "I would have me a piece of Will any day."

"It's Quil."

"Whatever he's gorgeous, do you think he's with anyone?" Jaclyn asked.

"Wait," I interrupted. "What do you know about Quil, Cara?"

"Not much," she shrugged looking like she was hiding something. "Just that he left years ago when he was still a kid and he came back 'cause of some family problems."

I leaned forward with interest. "Why did he leave? What kind of family problems?"

Cara threw her hands up in the air. "I'm just the messenger, I'm not sure."

"Hold on." I looked over the viper-like Melody to see her eyes in slits. "Do you like him?"

Crap. I blushed profusely and avoided their gazes. "No."

"Yes you do!" she cackled.

"Shut up, Melody!" Cara defended me.

She sat back satisfied with her self and continued. "It's good thing you don't like him Claire, he's like way out of your league. Not to mention he's like in his early twenties at least."

I frowned. "I'm almost an adult myself."

She shrugged. "Regardless, he'd never have you."

I wasn't going to take this from this pre-pubescent little witch. I got up to leave, then turned to Cara. "Jacob got into your make-up, so you might want to get to him before he uses up all of your eyeliner."

She shrieked and darted between people to get to Jake. He had spread it on thick enough to get some in his eyes, and he had from the look of those tears streaming down his face. "Jake! Give it back!"

I headed into the kitchen, the only part of the house free to breathe in because Emily banished people while she cooked. I jumped up onto the island and munched on a carrot from the vegetable plate. I looked over the spread, as always shocked at how much food it took to feed these party goers.

"I have no idea how you do it, Aunt Emily." I commented as I looked over the food. Baked beans, coleslaw, cornbread, potatoes au gratin, fresh fruit and vegetables, a huge chocolate cake; not to mention the burgers, steaks and hot dogs Sam was grilling on the deck outside. "I wouldn't want to see food for a week after this."

She laughed and turned around from where she was cutting tomatoes. "It comes with the territory. How are things out there?"

I swallowed before answering. "The boys are trashing the place, Cara and her friends sought my wisdom and Jake is using up all of Cara's liquid eyeliner."

"Things are progressing nicely then," she grinned and studied me. "Why did Cara seek your wisdom."

"Baseball to make out analogy."

I elaborated further at her confused look. "First base is kissing, second base is…"

"They still use that?" she shook her head laughing. "And Jacob got his hands into Cara's make-up stash? Good, I'm sick her going through this phase where she insists on looking like a porcupine."

We sat a few minutes in companionable silence as she chopped and I ate. Without turning her to face me she asked, "How did it go this afternoon?"

I froze, panicking at what to say. Thankfully, Jakes insane antics came at a good time for once. The door swung open to reveal Jake: shirt ripped, eyes painted black with lip stick red tears on his face, hair wild. "READY TO ROCK!" he screamed and then proceeded to flail about and play air guitar and sing 'C'mon Feel the Noise' by Quiet Riot.

Emily and I had to lean against each other to remain standing, we were laughing so hard. He did a hair flip and jump kick and everything. When he finished I asked, "Forget your med's today, Jake?"

He just grinned. "Forget your Midol, Claire?"

"Hey, play nice." Emily said turning to the food. "It's time to eat now anyway."

With unnecessary excitement Jake pulled me to the door and bellowed, "FOOD!" The stampede began, me and Jake pilled our plates and fought against the current to the screen door leading to the back yard. Where he made a show of how heavy the screen door was.

"Quit fooling around, Jake, people want to get out." I said exasperated.

"Oh, this door!" he exclaimed, his feet wide apart, arms and shoulders strained. "So heavy. _Heavy_ with importance. What lies beyond?"

I pushed him out of the way and pushed the screen door open, muttering, "You're such an infant, Jacob." I stumbled out, Jake poking me in the process, and saw what was so important that lay beyond.

Quil stood there talking with Sam, looking like a god in a white button down shirt over an Anti-Flag T-Shirt. He turned around at the sound of Jakes playing. He grinned when he saw us and waved us over to the grill. I took a deep breath and followed Jake as he sniffed his way to the food.

"What'll it be Claire?" Sam asked. "Burger, steak or hot dog?"

"Cheeseburger." I said trying not to think about how my arm was touching Quil's chest in the confined space. I looked up to see his eyes smoldering down at me, his mouth soft.

"And for you, Jake?" Oh, I moved out of the way to stand next to Quil. I was stuck in a corner of the railing and had no choice but to be pressed up against him. _Oh, Lord, I think I'm going to faint._

"One of each." Replied Jake, meeting shocked silence. He continued with a snotty tone. "If I want to keep my girlish figure I can't eat _copious_ amounts of _red meat_. What would Oprah say?"

We just laughed and continued to one of the picnic tables set up in the huge backyard. Tiki lights and space heaters kept the chill at bay. Our table was near the back, old with chipping red paint. Jake spread out on one side, leaving me and Quil on the other.

For twenty minutes we sat there; eating, barely talking and coming out of our skin. I didn't miss the silence though, for in its absence something greater than words surfaced.

That twenty minutes was one amazing moment after the other. Our feet touching under the table. Our knees bumping. Shared grins. Meaningful looks. Fingers touching as I passed him the ketchup. Our knees bumping again, and staying that way.

All the times we had wanted to touch each other, we were making up for. I loved how his eyes lingered on mine after I caught him watching me. I loved how the muscles in his jaw worked as chewed. I loved that, for such a big strong guy, he had amazingly long eyelashes. I loved how his pinky found my pinky on the bench and he pressed them together. How he moved my moved, orienting himself around me at all times.

() Music lyrics floated my way: "_It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart/ without saying a word you can light up the dark"_

With god given tact Jake choose that moment to belch. Loudly. Mind blowing loud. He made a show of shaking his head as he gathered his trash and prepared to leave. "I don't know how much more of this 'touch me, feel me, oh baby oh baby' shit I can take. Peace, love birds, I'm out."

"So did you not see the make-up or were you just being polite?" I asked after an uncomfortable beat.

Scratch that, Quil's _smile_ is mind blowing. "I've known him all my life, that's nothing. In fact, I was the one who gave him the idea when we got here and Connor wouldn't let him play his Guitar Hero."

I gasped, only half playing at being shocked. I stored that bit information away for later. "You encourage Jake's drag queen tendencies?"

"Guilty." His smile was broad and glowed white in the dusk.

I shook my head in mock solemnity. "You'll surely be damned for that."

As soon as the words were out I wanted to shove them back in. Quil's face darkened and he seemed to be looking inward at a festering wound that would not heal. "Yes," he said quietly, sadly. "If not for other things."

I opened my mouth, searching for the words that would bring him back to me. I grabbed at any non committal strain of conversation. "This whole thing was my idea."

He looked to me, his face lifting slightly at my voice. "I've been informed."

I turned to the side to face him, he did the same. "I was eight and for Christmas I had gotten Dance Dance Revolution, but my mom hated the thing and said I couldn't play it in the house. For months I waited and waited for a chance to use it and then one day I got this crazy idea. I managed to get on Cara's bus home get here to talk to Emily. I sat her down and _begged _her to let me bring it here and play it. She didn't really want to and just fed me and sent me home."

His eyes were on my face, drinking me in just as much as I was drinking him in.

"But I was not to be denied my fun. So the next day I did the exact same thing, and I came her and I said, "Aunt Emily, I—"

Just then the music went silent and I saw Embry standing up on the porch railing, a microphone in his hand. He tapped it, "Testing, testing 1 2 3."

The screech that followed forced us all to cover our ears. I felt nerves and dread boil in my stomach as time caught up with me. How could I have forgotten.

"Attention everyone, for the moment you have been waiting for." Embry pointed to where I was standing and walking towards him. "With her yearly performance, it's Claire Moses!"

Cheers erupted, hoots and hollering. All the eyes were on me, but only one pair could I feel to the depths of my soul. Jake and Embry lifted me up to stand on the one story tall railing. Things quieted down as I took my traditional pause to drink in the moment. This time, however I did not look over the crowd. No, this time I found a pair of stunning green gold eyes and held them as I began.

_My life goes on in endless song/ Above earth's lamentations/ I hear the real, though far-off hymn/ That hails a new creation."_ I sang.

I got lost in the depths of Quil's eyes and found myself in a completely different place. Music is everywhere, in everything that is good and beautiful in the world. It brings you to places never traveled and gives you moments gifted.


	11. Flashback: Night Words

**I feel mean putting this up and keeping you guys in further suspense. This flashback is mysterious and important, later in the story it will be your key to unlocking the past. I would love to hear what you think, and definitely later when it will make so much more sense.**

**Theme Music: Lullaby by Sia (see lyrics)**

* * *

Chapter 11. Flashback: Night Words

_Place your past into a book_

_Put in everything you ever took_

_Place your past into a book_

_Burn the pages let 'em cook_

_Claire _

_April 14, 12 years ago_

I stood there watching the storm brew over my head, the large gray vortex that seemed to be eating away at the world. The wind whipped around my head, snatching at my hair and biting at my skin. The rain had come, a soft sprinkle; such a contrast to what my eyes saw and what I could hear. The temperature had dropped and I stood there shivering, my body aching.

Still, I remained, as the world took out its wrath and its grief. I stood there because I truly believed he would come back. I did not understand him when he said that it had been good bye.

I stared into the dark depths of the forest that had swallowed him up. I waited, patient as I had always been. Patient for what would never come. I listened for his voice, his laugh and even his cry. I watched for the slightest sign that he was there, coming to me. It was only a game.

If it was a game I should search for him. I should yell his name and run after him. I should be laughing and having fun. I should scream when he jumped out from behind something and caught me up in his arms.

I should be alive at this moment. I should remember who I am and how I got here. Instead, it all seemed like a strange bed time story. Make believe. Not real.

I stood there. Five years old. My black dress with the daisies on it plastered to my skin and my hair dripping in my eyes. I feared what I had been taught to fear and believed what I had been taught to believe.

Still, I turned around and with my back to the forest I walked towards my house. I passed the swing set and the sand box, the garden house and the barbeque. I climbed the two steps to the screen door and reached above my head to open it. Silent, composed I stepped inside and turned around.

I put my hand to the icy glass and watched my breath fog it. It all looked very different with the glass between us. The rain fell and lightening sounded but I did not feel or hear it. In my child's mind it looked very much like a picture, on a page that could be turned.

Again, I turned my back to that dark and rainy backyard scene. I moved my legs and forced my mind to continue with me. I melted into time and let this day and those that had preceded it fade also.

* * *

_Send a question in the wind_

_It's hard to know where to begin_

_So send a question in the wind_

_And give an answer to a friend_

_8 years ago_

"Claire, would you come with me?" I turned to see Leah next to me. I had always liked her, she was very beautiful, but she rarely spoke to me or anyone else for that matter. I was confused as to why she was talking to me, but nevertheless, nodded my head in agreement.

I followed her through the crowd in Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam's backyard. She was tall and straight and serious. Determination etched in her features as she led me to the edge of the yard. Beyond, into the trees. Farther in, until the bright party lights no longer lighted the way. Until the laughter and music faded into the sound of the wind in the leaves was all that remained in the air.

I felt nervous in the forest. The trees were so tall and so huge and so close together. I feared getting lost in them and never being found. I feared the dark night words they would whisper to me as I stumbled around.

We stopped at a small creek that weaved its way between the trees like an old friend. Here Leah sat, looked up at me and patted the damp earth beside her. I sat beside her and let the moisture and the cold seep into me. We watched the water bubble over the rocks and make its journey along the creek. Searching for a river, a sea, a ocean. A purpose.

"Claire." Leah had turned to look at my face. I learned how the slanting moonlight made her otherworldly. I saw how the empty darkness suited her, how her edges became indistinguishable from the night. I witnessed the strength and wisdom in her eyes as they bore into mine. "I heard you're going to sing for us tonight."

I looked down to my hands in my lap, embarrassed. I nodded, not sure how to respond.

"I used to know a little girl who sang. Her voice was beautiful, like a nightingale or an angel. She would dance as she sang and grin. She had fire that girl and spirit unlike anyone I had ever known. I admired her very much." Her voice was distant and mysterious.

I considered this idea. I knew I wasn't going to dance and wasn't going to smile. I was too afraid. "Is this girl real?" I asked.

Her eyes earnest and pleading. "Yes, yes Claire, she was very much real. She lived and breathed and dreamed just like us."

"What happened to her?" I asked, but knew in the back of my mind what she would say next.

Her eyes left me and searched the forest as if she would appear before us. "Gone. She's gone. She won't ever sing or dance of dream again."

We were silent. I didn't understand why she was telling me this.

"You know what, Claire?" she asked, gazing at the starry night sky above us. "Some people lie about things they don't really understand."

This interested me. "Really."

"Truly. A lot of people are too scared to believe what they have been told is wrong. For instance, did you know that The Beauty and the Beast is a true story?"

I was surprised by this, it was my favorite fairy tale. "Belle and the Beast really existed?"

"Yes, Claire, they did." Her voice had turned pleading again. "The Beast really existed, and he wasn't vain and he wasn't cursed. Belle was real and the Beast loved her very much. More than you could ever know. He loved her _so_ much that he let her go."

I listened to this and thought about the Beast, the prince behind the mask.

Leah took my arm and made me look her in the eyes. "Promise me something Claire. And if you are to keep one promise in you life let it be this one. Promise to believe in Belle and her prince that loved her. Promise to believe in the little girl who loved to sing."

"I will."

For a few minutes we sat in mutual silence as we watched the stars. Pinpricks of light cutting through the dark, outshining it, making it obsolete.


	12. Bringing Down the House, Pt 2

**This chapter took FOREVER! The longest yet, enjoy!**

**Party Music: Mother We Just Can't Get Enough by New Radicals, Aint Nothing Wrong With That by Robert Randolph and the Family Band, Dancing in the Moonlight by Toploader and Burning Down the House by Talking Heads**

**Theme Music: Loves Divine by Seal and In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel**

* * *

Chapter 12. Bringing Down the House, Pt. 2

"_But then there's a moment like tonight, a profound and transcendent experience, the feeling as if a door has opened, and it's all because of that instrument, that incredible, magical instrument."_

_-Diane Frolov and Andrew Schneider_

I watched as she walked away from me, the crowd parting like the Red Sea to let this beautiful creature pass. I let myself fall for a moment into her movements; her walk, the way she holds her head, the slight swing of her arms as she floated.

Jake and Embry each took one of her hands to help lift her up onto the tall porch railing. She was handed the karaoke machine microphone, her slender fingers holding it tenderly. I marveled at how the red brought out her graceful features and the duskiness of her skin. The porch light was bright just above her head, lighting her hair aglow. She stood there, perfectly balanced on the narrow piece of wood, the picture of an angel.

Her eyes sought mine out and I couldn't resist the force they had over me. She held me like that for a minute, sharing herself, that moment with me. Silence seeped into the crowd like water in a sponge. It felt like this moment was divined, one of the few that had been fated since time began.

She brought the microphone up to her sweet lips and sang with a voice impossible in its beauty. Unimaginable in its tenderness and earth shattering in its sincerity. "_My life goes on in endless song/ above life's lamentations/ I hear the real, though far-off hymn/ That hails a new creation."_

The very air trembled as it unworthily cared her soul on its wings. For, yes, it seemed that she released with that beautiful sound an unmistakable essence of who she was. Pure and bright, innocent and joyous. The wind carried her serenade to the trees who danced in joy, to clouds that parted in awe, to the stars that sparkled compatibly. All in existence held their breath as one of god's angels let loose her power over us.

She sang quietly and enthrallingly of the song that made up her life and the underlying melody of rebirth. How despite the tumult and the strife, she could not help but sing. That lies may be told, but the truth lay in that purest of songs. She clung to her faith and serenity, and love that lorded over everything; how could she keep from singing?

The last notes to her song dripped with her passion and happiness. So heavy were they that they hung there in the air, echoing, long after they had fallen from her lips. We were all frozen, entranced, taking in this unearthly moment. Then, unrestrained and enthusiastic, roaring applause and cheers erupted like cannon fire.

My breath was shallow and useless. My mind was blank and painful. My hands shook with frightening ferocity. I desperately tried to hang on to my sanity and consciousness.

I sprang from my seat and ran around the edge the crowd. I pushed myself around a group of teenage girls and nearly fell over a lawn chair. All I could think about was getting out of everyone's sight. Within seconds I had come to the side of the house, dark and deserted.

Warily, I heavily leaned against the yellow siding. I rested my head back and took greedy gulps of the cool, damp night air. Nausea twisted my stomach into painful knots. My ears were ringing and my vision blurred.

I fought so hard against the memories that it brought on a physical pain. Wave after wave, year after year, washed over me. Brining me under. I struggled, but fruitlessly, as snapshots of my life played on a loop in my caged mind.

A pink tout-tout. A fairy wand. Barbie dolls. A hair brush used as a microphone. A tiny rainbow colored key board. Drawings of lady bugs and tulips. A mural of the Secret Garden on her bedroom wall. A tiny tea cup in my over sized hand. Pigtails with butterfly clips. A devilish grin.

I jumped about a foot when I felt a light touch on my arm. I opened my eyes to find Leah standing next to me, a concerned expression darkening her features. She let my sporadic breath and heartbeat slow. I appreciated her patience.

"It's ok, Quil," Leah said softly. "Shocked the hell out of me the first time I heard it too."

"I wasn't expecting that." My voice came out husky and tight.

"Everyone's used to it by now, but that first time she did that… I couldn't help but think she was possessed by a spirit." My eyes cut to her face, but it was down turned and in shadow. I suppressed the familiar burning in my limbs, determined not to let my emotions get the better of me.

"Why would you say that, Leah?"

Her sharp, dark gaze cut to me. "Because, it's what you're all thinking."

"I should have known you would be the one to dwell on it." Disgust coated my throat.

Her mouth twisted into a feral snarl. "I should have known you would try to forget everything, act like it didn't happen."

I rose to my full height, towering over her. "No, Leah, I'm not trying to forget. I am trying to move on and get past all this shit. Maybe you should do the same."

I stepped around her and stalked away, back to the party. Just as I was about to step into the glow, she called my name softly. Knowing I would regret it, I turned back to her. The pain was fresh in her eyes, even after all these years she could still feel her loss.

"If you want to move on, there's only one way. You would have to tell her, everything. I know that scares you and I know that everyone wants you to get it over with. But, I don't know…" her voice trailed off in anguish.

"What, Leah? But what?" I couldn't keep the harshness out of my words.

"I don't think you're ready for that, either of you. I think you should try to be her friend first, let her get to know you again. I know what you guys have, but relationships can't be turned on and off with a switch, they have to be built on something."

I calmed as I considered her words, the wisdom they held. I acknowledged that she was right, as hard as it was to admit. As much as I would like to erase the last twelve years and go back to being Claire's one and only, it wasn't that simple. We needed to learn to stay afloat before we could swim.

The sounds of the party started to press in on our hiding place. I turned my head and felt the draw to her, as all consuming and powerful as ever. I took a deep breath and looked at Leah. She was limp as a rag doll, leaning against the side of the house like it was the only thing keeping her from melting into a puddle. I felt ashamed for yelling at her and for going under the belt to justify myself.

"Thank you, Leah." She looked up at the sincerity in my voice. "Are you going to be okay?"

We both shared a moment to acknowledge that her happiness was in the past, and that from now on she would be just 'okay' until something, or someone, changed. She sighed and stood with an effort. "Yeah, I guess."

I waited for her and together we came into the light of the party. I was jittery with anticipation as my eyes scoured the crowd. Our little fight had taken less than five minutes, but there was still a crowd gathered near the porch, no doubt still congratulating Claire. I made my way there.

I felt my anxiety dissipate as I grew closer, the pressure in my chest loosening its hold on my breath. It was hard to breath, to think, to live without her at my side. How ever did I live twelve years without her touch, her voice, her smile?

I saw Jake first, inside a ring of people, laughing. I was reminded about how invested he was in Claire, how concerned he was for her. I made a mental note to ask later why that was.

"So, I was thinking," Jacob said, his hands in the air drawing the image. "And picture this…_opera_."

I could not see her through the mass of bodies, but her musical laugh and sweet voice cut right through me. "Oh, no, Jake. Not this again."

"No really, I think it could work. See this is what we do, you gain a hundred pounds—"

"Ugh." Even her sounds of annoyance made my heart pound faster.

"Fine," Jake consented. "We put you in a fat suit, happy? Anyway you get _really_ fat, we put you in a corset and we fly out to Paris. There we befriend a real opera singer, who I will then seduce."

"Well, of course, who else would we trust with the job of seducer to a three hundred pound middle aged woman?" Claire said.

"And while she's having her way with me," The crowd that had gathered groaned at the mental picture. "You steal her mustache and her car and make your way over to the opera house where she is performing. You fool everyone, because your fat and have a mustache and you're wearing a corset—"

"Yes, because, that's what _all_ opera singers look like." Claire said dryly.

"You get up on stage and sing your little hinny off, and while they're going 'Bravo!' and 'Encore! Encore!' you _rip _the fat suit off and the mustache, revealing your identity. You become famous, you're all over the news and the best opera house in Paris signs you to be their lead soprano for life."

This was met with shocked silence until Claire spoke. "What would I have done if I had actually gained the hundred pounds?"

He didn't even blink. "Well, then you would look really stupid trying to tear your fat off yourself."

I had finally managed to make my way to the edge of the laughing crowd. I myself was smiling at Jakes outrageous little story and it only got bigger when I managed to catch a glimpse of Claire between the bodies. Her cheeks were flushed and she was openly laughing without restraint. Since coming back, I had not seen her so happy. This gave me courage.

I came up close behind Emily and Seth and put my hands on their shoulders. They turned in unison, saw the look on my face, the focus of my eyes, and stepped back. Then I was standing behind her, her body six inches from me. I stared at the back of her head, letting emotion build in my chest. I had learned over the years that I need not be a slave to my feelings, that I could control them and use them in a constructive way.

The circle stepped back, everyone knew us, and everyone knew that I needed this moment with her. With Jake as my only witness, I reached forward and caught her cooler hand in mine. I reveled in this physical touch, so simple and pure. Her soft, small hand inside my larger, hotter one was all I needed to continue; no matter what hurt or shame, her touch would always bring me through.

She turned to face me, not confused or scared. She let me my hand encompass hers for a moment, looking down at them. I wondered if she remembered my hot touch somewhere deep down inside her that she didn't even know about, and that was why she didn't flinch or look surprised. Ever so slightly, she squeezed my fingers with her. We both looked up at the same time, both deliriously happy at such a small thing. Her eyes smiled up at me and a wide grin curled her mouth, slow and sexy. She didn't pause or look scared as her own free hand sought mine. A moment ago my right hand had been such an insignificant part of me, but now as her cool fingertips slipped into it, it began to tingle and tremble with all the love, desire and joy my body held.

With Claire time seems to speed up and pass without us knowing, usually an unfortunate thing. But now as we enjoyed this first of so many more touches, I was glad for the absence of time. We let it slide, the seconds' ticking wasn't heard, we let go of what had held us back before. We let our admiration and respect show through our eyes and hands.

I brought her hands closer to me, gently grazing my chest, right over my heart. I was sure she could feel it beat. Then I brought her hands behind her back so that my arms were around her; though not touching, kept wide enough to circle her but not to embrace. I leaned into her, bringing my face and entire body closer, our eyes locked impermeably. I stopped when our faces were inches apart and got lost in her beauty. Her breathing was as ragged as mine; her sweet warm breath blowing over my face making my head swim with its delicious scent. I then veered my direction to bring my lips to her ear, her hair tickling my nose.

"That was beautiful." I whispered, husky and heavy. I felt her hands tremble and her hair brush against my face. God how I wanted to bury my head in her beautiful curls and wrap my arms around her and crush her against me. But I didn't, determined to take things slow.

I was surprised to hear her quiet musical laughter right next to my ear. Unwillingly I pulled back, still keeping my arms in place, to see her face. Her head was tipped back and she was grinning between peals of laughter. My immediate reaction was to smile and laugh too. I laughed like I hadn't in years, loud and deep.

She had quieted down and was staring at me with an almost pained expression. Her gaze brushed over my features, following ever masculine curve and angle. I felt a thrill go through me as each part of my face caught fire when she focused on it. Slowly and deliberately she brought one her hands from her back, still in mine, and brought it up to my face. She grazed her knuckles over the edge of my jaw ever so lightly, my skin warming and tingling where touched. With as much sincerity and passion as my previous statement she sighed, "You have no idea."

My breath caught in my throat at her words and my heart literally skipped a beat. Again, I was surprised when she pulled her hands out of mine and then caught them up again in one of her own and tried to pull me forward. I stumbled behind, my mind blank and jaw slack.

She maneuvered through the crowd gracefully never slowing her rapid pace. Quickly we had come upon the porch steps, which she bounded up and forcing me behind her. She halted though once we reached the house and turned to me beaming. "Wait here."

She dropped my hands and slipped inside, leaving me staring after her in awe. Would she never cease surprising me? Would her beauty ever stop stunning me into incoherency? Would this love inside me ever let go of my wits? I knew the answer to all these questions, never.

A wolf whistle sounded to my right. I spotted Colin and Seth sitting companionably on the porch railing where Claire had stood only fifteen minutes ago. They both wore identical looks of awe and bewilderment. I knew immediately that they had been watching the whole thing and were now going to rag on me about it.

"Save it." I said with as much threat in my voice as I could muster.

They just laughed. "That was quite a performance you two put on," started Seth.

"Yeah," Colin continued. "It was like Lloyd with the boom box or Tom going 'You complete me' and then Renee being all 'You had me at hello'."

"What have you guys been doing while I've been gone, besides watching old clichéd romantic comedies?" I nearly got the last word out, as I heard the door sliding open and someone coming out behind me.

"Hey! They're classics." Seth took a swig of his bear and grinned, satisfied. "All we're saying is, we're surprised you guys weren't going at it right there on the lawn."

I heard Claire's angry intake of breath behind me before she came around and pressed a small leather folder into my hands. She then continued forward with blinding speed and pushed both of them over the edge of the railing. They almost seemed to fall in slow motion, with matching comical faces of surprise. They landed in the bushes one story below and cursed like sailors.

Just one look passed between us before me and Claire burst into hysterical laughter. I took hold of her hands again, leading our way this time, trying to get her away from Seth and Colin who threatening her from below.

We were able to find two unused lawn chairs and pull them together to look at the photo album Claire had retrieved from the house. Our forearms and knees barely touched, but was enough to distract us every so often from our task.

"And this is our day at the amusement park in Olympia last August." She said as she turned to a picture of her Jacob flying by on a rollercoaster, the picture extremely blurry. "It was my favorite trip because Jake challenged Colin to a hotdog eating contest, which he won of course. Then we got on this thing and it took him two steps after we got off before he was on his knees throwing _thirty-three_ hot dogs up."

"What is with Jake and losing his cookies?"

"I don't know," she said with a smile. "He does seem to have an affinity for regurgitation."

"Or a death wish." I said making her laugh. She turned the page to a picture of Emily standing in her backyard, in the very spot we sat at this moment, her hands covering her grin and her eyes crying tears of happiness.

"This ones of Emily's birthday last year. Uncle Sam finally took away the playground equipment and cleared out the plot for her garden. She was thrilled, and even though spring was long gone, she was able to grow some beautiful and delicious things." She paused and traced Emily's face in the photo. "She's special like that, you know, very nurturing and caring?"

I looked at her gentle face and resisted the urge to touch her. "You really love her don't you?"

She met my gaze, serious. "Yes, she's like a second mother to me. She has done so much for me, like this whole thing. Just because I wanted a reason to dance and have a good time, she put this all together. More than that though, she was the shoulder I cried on and the person who taught me how to do long division and how to French braid and a million other little things. She, and everyone else for that matter, picked up the extra slack in my life."

I felt my heart pull painfully at the image of her crying, but continued to focus on her words. She looked back down at the picture and continuing in a much quieter voice. "They think I don't know this because it has always been there, but I do. I could never thank them enough for that."

I was stunned at her words. I had always supposed that Claire had forgotten, or at least been in the dark about her past. Instead, she seemed to know without remembering about how bad things had been. Without knowing how, or why or from where she felt the dark memories breathing down her neck.

"Why is that?" I managed to ask.

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows shaped together. "I just think about my life without them, you know? I guess what people mean to you, well, it doesn't have a definitive reason why? Sometimes things just are." She seemed embarrassed by her little rant and remedied it by showing me a new picture.

A couple pictures later she asked without looking up, "What about you?"

I tried to smile and make the conversation light. "What about me?"

She gave me a pointed glance. "What's your story? What's your favorite color? What's your first memory? What is your goal in life?"

I took a deep breath and dived in. "Well my birthday is May 30 and I have no siblings. My first memory is actually of my mother, I think I was three, and we were at the grocery store. I got lost and the store clerk had to go over to PA system and everything. I was crying and he felt bad for me so he gave my mom a coupon for tomato soup."

Claire touched the back of my hand and teased me. "Aww, you poor baby."

"I was named after my dad but I never saw him a lot because my parents were divorced by the time I was four. When I was eleven my mom died of breast cancer and that's when I came to live with him. Jake and I are cousins and have been best friends our whole lives and Embry too of course. My favorite color is green, my favorite ice cream flavor is cookies and cream and I am allergic to shell fish."

Ever since I said what happened to my mother she was looking at me with great sadness in her eyes. But not pity, which I despised, just compassion. She took my right hand and traced soothing figure eights into my palm. I let her comfort me because maybe I needed it, more than I dared to realize.

"Your turn. What's your favorite movie? What's your favorite song? Do you have a pet peeve? What do you want to do in life?" I asked, both of us ready to move on.

Her mouth twisted into her frown/smile as she pulled forth her information. "My favorite movie…is more than one. I have a soft spot for _Titanic_, and I had this Audrey Hepburn phase a year ago, so, _Breakfast at Tiffanys _and_ Roman Holiday_ are a must. It's kind of embarrassing but I have seen all six _Star Wars_ movies, and _Matrix_ and _Underworld_ and _Resident Evil_ films. And you can't forget the classics like _Sixteen Candles_, and _10 Things I Hate About You_ and _The Breakfast Club_.

"My most played song on my iPod is 'Hallelujah' by Jeff Buckley, who is genius. Followed by some Beatles, and some Janice Joplin, and some more modern stuff like Rachael Yamagata and," here she pointed at my shirt and smiled. "even some bands like Anti-Flag and Scary Kids Scary Kids and Chiodos.

"I absolutely hate when people talk in text talk or mispronounce a word or misuse words. I despise passive aggression and when people say 'like' every other word. I can't stand boiled eggs, don't ask why, and I don't really like red meat all that much. My favorite foods are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Hot Cheetos.

"I'm not sure yet what I want to do, but maybe something with music. I know how to play the piano, clarinet and French horn but I love singing above all. So maybe a music teacher or even something so obscure as a kindergarten teacher or, and this one is weird, a landscaper. I want to help people I know that, help them become the best versions of themselves."

I was listening so intensely, storing everything away, that when she stopped I almost didn't notice. I looked back into her face to see her blushing warmly at her outburst. This time I was the one to lift our hands and brush my knuckles against her warm, silky cheek. Her breath hitched as she searched my eyes.

"Ok, everybody," we looked up to see Sam standing on the porch railing with the microphone in his hand. "This is the last song, and after that you gotta get the hell out of here."

I saw a large space of open grace had been cleared for dancing and people were already walking on as the first few beats of the classic song played. I sprang to my feet and offered my arm to Claire. "May I have this dance?"

Her eyes light up and her smile spread. "Absolutely." She took my arm and I led her the few feet to the 'dance floor'. There I took her right hand and held it up, and then, hesitantly, placed my hand at the curve where her waist met her hip. Our eyes were locked as I took this next step into the unknown. I was pleased beyond words at how my hand fit perfectly into that curve and her eyes lit and burned like coals.

I didn't know how to dance so I did my best by my moving my feet and kind of swaying back and forth. I fought down those primal urges that had risen again and took over me when I was near Claire, and terrifyingly so when we touched. The song that played talked about the light and the heat in your other half's eyes, and how you were connected and the limitless things you would do for each other.

"This is one of my favorite songs." She said softly to me.

I remembered what Seth and Colin had said a few hours ago. "Because of Lloyd Dobler and the boom box scene in _Say Anything…_?"

She looked surprised for a second, and then her brilliant smile lit up my life. "Yes, that's it exactly. He did it because he knew what they had and that there was no denying it. He knew he could never stop loving her and that she could never stop loving him."

"Ah, yes, '_I gave her my heart and she gave me a pen_.'" I intoned.

There are moments in life when the puzzle pieces fit together. When the words come out right. When your not afraid or embarrassed. Most of the time these moments go by unnoticed, then get realized at a later and unhappier date. This moment though, the starting point for our second relationship, will go down in history.

I carefully told myself, _You will never have this moment back, to relive or change, so enjoy it fully and make it perfect_.

We just got lost in each other. We let the moment fill all the tiny holes within us, making us whole. I reminded myself the whole time that moments like this one would be a dime a dozen soon, I would make sure they happened every day whenever possible. I made a silent promise to her to make-up for the damage I had done, no matter what it took and no matter how long it took.

The song ended all too quickly, what with our ability to speed up time. We stood there, still in position, as everyone else walked away and gathered their things to leave. I felt a fear rise within me that if I let her go, if I said goodbye that I would never get her back again. The last time I had done those things they had been literal, I had believed I would never see or hold her again. My hand on her waist tightened at this thought, trying to keep her there.

A hand came up and gripped my shoulder. We looked to see Jake standing uncomfortably close to us, a grin pasted on his face. "Howdy, partners. Sorry but this is hasta la vista for you two. I gotta take him madam; this ruffian here needs to be taught a lesson."

She stepped back, a suppressed sad look on her face, and gave my hand a last squeeze before dropping it. "Alright, Jake if that's what you feel is best."

I then found myself being dragged away for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Jake called over his shoulder, "Adios. Hasta luego and all that good stuff."

I struggled the whole way to the car as Jake pulled me along. He even got really dirty and did that trick where he pushed my thumb really far back until I had to give in because it hurt too much. "What are you doing, Jake? You could have at least let me walk her to her car."

He opened the passenger door and forced me in and almost took off my foot when he closed the door. He ran to his side and got in. "Well, companero, important business need to be attended to. Besides, you're going to have lots of reasons to see Claire again. Believe me, it was my idea."

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, you'll see." He said wickedly. I just scowled and remained silent, still begrudging him.

"Wait," I said realizing something. "What special business?"

"Well, Quil," said Jake, his smile blindingly white in the darkness. "What do you say to a little run?"


	13. Just Plain Wanting

**For Whom It May Concern—So, I finally put the plan to paper for this story, and wow, is it going to be long. I'm guessing close to 40 chapters (wishful thinking), which makes me ever so nauseas. I have a lot to things in store for you guys, and will be picking up the pace in the story. Keep in mind, even though this fic is all about Quil and Claire, the scope is much wider than that. Here's to hoping I can finish this with all deliberate speed.**

**Theme Music: Swallowed In The Sea by Coldplay**

Chapter 13. Just Plain Wanting

"_Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.__"_

_--Sylvia Plath _

I never relished the idea of first love, quite the contrary. I always thought it was a naïve and desperate dream. I would snicker when watching a romance movie and preferred mystery novels over all other books. The music I listened to was the kind that spoke of real things: hate, jealousy, a split seconds joy and sorrow.

Don't get me wrong, I am not a bitter or disdainful person. I tend to be part of the 'glass half full' population and much prefer laughing to crying. What I'm trying to say is that, I never had very high expectations of life. I had faith that I would live until I was at least forty and hopes that my life would get better or at the very least not get any worse. I was not convinced, though, that I had a soul mate or a great destiny. If I tried I could believe that such things were possible for others, but could never imagine it for myself.

So, to find myself lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling at one in the morning, unable to sleep and unable to stop thinking, was a mild shock. For my thoughts were fanciful and romantic, wild and hopeful. Too convincing and far too close to being life altering.

I was thinking about Quil. Everything Quil. His hands, his voice, his interest, his nose, his feet, his mouth, his life, his eyes. And what it all meant to me. All the parts that made up this beautiful and fascinating man seemed specially designed to keep me up into the wee hours of the morning just plain _wanting. _I, quite plainly, wanted everything he had to give.

Without his arms holding me down, I would blow away. Without the sight of his strong, smiling face I would purposefully go blind. Without his voice I would never hear again. Without his eyes I would go insane.

With his arms holding me I would have the strength to embrace him back. With his calm face filling my eyes I could learn to see what I had once denied to exist. With his voice I could learn what true and beautiful music really was. With his eyes on me I could become what I had always wanted to be.

I could feel the darkness encroaching on me and my dark thoughts. I shivered and rolled back under the covers. The truth in all my musings was that I had changed, permanently and drastically. And it would all be for naught, if not for Quil and all he was.

The fearful part of all this, was the new realizations it brought. I had the nagging idea that without him at my side I would cease to exist. That everything I had once thought myself to be would turn to ash and blow away, leaving me a vague and indistinguishable outline on the horizon. I would be something untouched and unseen, numb and blind. A half person, missing and lost.

The sound of my breath was the only noise that permeated the silence. It grew slower, exhaustion weighing my eyelids down. I was soon lost in a song, a picture, a smile, a hope

a dream.

_I was fascinated by the pink swirl of color obscuring my vision. My eyes followed the lines to the end of the earth. I allowed the haze to swallow me in one big gulp._

_"Claire?" I looked up from the magenta daisy in my hand to look around the forest. That one word was less spoken then it was thought. An idea rather than reality._

_That voice, though, I knew that voice. Warm and soft, deep and passionate. A world inside a body inside a universe. _

_I started to call his name, at first just curiously, with the false sense that he was just out of sight. Then louder and more panicked. I walked faster and then ran. The branches and undergrowth clawing at me as I tried to make my way to the only home I had ever known._

_The fog was like a milky wall that I tried to break through. His plaintive cries also grew in decibel and anxiety. I felt tears swim in my eyes, the feeling of my soul being ripped from my chest sharp and oh so real. Lethargy flowed over my like corn syrup._

_I couldn't find him. I looked around every tree. I searched the brown earth beneath my feet. I looked to the heavens, if per chance he choose to be a bird. He was an angel and could be whatever he wanted. I wished I had wings to fly away with him._

_My heart was full to bursting. My lungs holey empty bags. My eyes drowning in boiling salt water. I dropped the flower and with a second wind put on even more speed. The forest became a black hole sucking pulling dragging me in. I lost myself in search of myself._

_Before I could pass out I stopped to catch my breath. I gasped his name roughly. Soon I was screaming, every word a knife to the chest. I stumbled around wailing incoherently. Meaning getting lost in my sobs of desperation._

_The next thing I knew I was on my knees. Then my backside. Then on my side, my face pressed to the ground. I could hear a wild animal cry out as it lost its will to live. I added my own howl to its base chant._

_My life's blood flowed from my eyes, turning the earth black. I stopped breathing. It didn't matter, none of it mattered. Without a heart how could one live? Without a soul how could one exist?_

_Then, I saw him. Perhaps the trees moved. Maybe he had found me. Probably, I had finally opened my eyes._

_I got up, wincing at the protest in my sore muscles and stumbled to him. A scream of heart ending terror left my lips before I even understood what I saw. A dark shadow hulked over his prostrate form, its teeth sharp and eyes black holes. _

_I tried to run but fell. I kept getting up and falling again. He was so close, screaming my name in anguish and pain. I just kept falling._

_"Quil!" My voice was shrill and wild_

_I was forced to watch the creature eat away at him, as I stumbled and fell every time. Each time I found him with my eyes again, there was less of him to see…_

_…For a second I thought I had become blind, then saw the points of light breaking through the darkness. Next came the incredible warmth of the arms around me. The hard pillow beneath my head and the rhythmic beating against my ear. His chuckle shuddered through me, starting a fire in my lower abdomen._

_His lips pressed against my hair fondly. I finally found his face and gasped at its beauty. His eyes light up the darkness and his wide, white smile contrasted with his russet skin. The points where his fingers pressed into the base of my neck made me shiver._

_We were lying in a meadow, the night sky our blanket _

_"Claire," he said lovingly. Not at all like his cries of pain. "Don't be afraid. I won't ever let anything happen to you. I love you too much. I love you more than God had ever intended for one person to love another."_

_My arms snaked around his neck and pulled him to me fiercely. I buried my face in his shoulder and inhaled his musky, minty scent. Feeling the hot skin of his face on mine sent goose bumps fleeing over my skin. My breathing was ragged and was nearly stopped by the force of his arms. He held me even tighter, meeting fire with fire. The feeling of his warm hardness surrounding my every inch was bliss._

_"I can't do it." I finally got out. "I can't go another day without you. I just wanna stay like this. Where we're both safe and we have each other. I don't want to let go. I don't ever want to let go."_

_He pulled back and looked on my tears. He took one hand from my back and put it to my face. His fingers couldn't wipe away my fears, so he tried a different tactic. Before his lips touched my face he said, "You won't ever have to."_

_His hot soft lips kissed away my tears one at a time. Each drop of moisture taken into his mouth and tasted, marveled at. I couldn't have imagined that someone else's mouth could make me feel this way. The tender sweep they made over my cheekbones, venturing into the hollows beneath my eyes. Sucking at the sensitive flesh beneath my jaw. His tongue traced my chin and moved up to stop at the corner of my needy, trembling mouth._

_By then I was shaking uncontrollably with my fingers twisted in his hair. I was pressing the full length of my body to him, wondering if his heat would melt me and we would fuse; one body, one soul. I wanted to crawl up into him and live there; breath his air and bleed his blood._

_He pressed his forehead to mine, his breathing just as hard and his eyes also shut. I could feel his smile, the warmth radiating from his lips just millimeters from mine. I wanted his mouth on mine more than I wanted to still be breathing in a minute. _

_His delicious breath left his parted lips and entered my mouth, driving me almost insane. "I can't leave you again Claire. I could not be yours just as much as I could stop loving you. Deny my existence and tear out my heart. I just found that organ again and don't want to stop it another time."_

_I was brought even closer to him, if that was possible, his lips preposterously close, but not touching,_

_oh so close…_

_…I was soaking wet and standing. My hair was pulled back tightly off my face. Lighting flashed my surroundings into sharp clarity. I was in a cemetery. The deafening boom of thunder shook the earth._

_Gravestones in every shape and color were set in a deadly design that fanned out from where I stood. I was facing a very plain gray gravestone. It was too dark to read it and my eyes strained to make it out._

_With another blinding surge of electrical charge I was able to read the words. I was blinded and given sight for that one second and immediately regretted it. The words made my head feel like it was going to fall off my shoulders: 'Quil Ateara, beloved grandson and friend.'_

* * *

The next day at school I walked around and talked and appeared to be awake, without consciously doing any of those things. I was still too amazed and appalled at last nights dream to do anything but think.

Maisy was the only one who seemed to notice my absence. "What is up with you?" she asked during lunch.

I had started violently over my contemplation of the graveyard, the last thing I could remember from the dream. "What?"

She sighed and popped an orange section into her mouth. Her words became juicy and sweet. "Claire, I love you like a sister, but sometimes I worry about you. You may not realize it but you do this a lot. You, just, like, go off somewhere in your head and don't come out for awhile. Ever since I can remember, it's happened. I don't know what your trying to find in that head of yours, but whatever it is it ain't coming out."

I narrowed my eyes at her, showing emotion for the first time that day. "I am so sorry that my slight preoccupation has been bothering you. Excuse me while I care."

Her feathers weren't ruffled by my snarky remark. I looked down at uneaten food in front of me to avoid her searching gaze. "It doesn't annoy me, Claire, it concerns me. Every time you get lost like this, it's harder for you to pull out. I'm afraid how difficult it will get for you to just act normal. What is it Claire? What is it that's eating you up inside?"

I knew and I didn't. I understood and I was lost. I gave in and fought it. I had always been in constant limbo with myself. Being pulled in both directions, tearing me in half. Only now that I had something to keep me balanced, my eyes open and heart filled, could I acknowledge how I had once been. Could still be if I couldn't get the answers to all these unseen questions.

Dropping my head into my hands I answered her. "I don't know. I don't know, but I'm going to try to find out."

I peeked through my fingers to see Maisy's face brighten. "Good, because you've got a lot in store for you in the next couple days."

I just got up and threw away my food, too tired to care about the insinuation in her voice. "C'mon we better get to Spanish before Senora McCarthy realizes that all anyone cares about is looking up dirty words in the dictionaries."

It wasn't the slowest day of my life, but it did drag. I couldn't concentrate with the instant replay being held down. I watched myself running and screaming, hearing his cries of pain. I relived his touch, his declaration of love and his lips on my face. I could still see his gravestone, the date of birth and death absent from the gray marble.

By last period I was convinced that I belonged with him. I was willing to jump off a cliff or swim across an ocean or give up a limb, whatever it took. I didn't believe in prophetic dreams, but I did have faith in my instincts.

I made a promise to myself. To give it a try and not to chicken out. I didn't know for sure but I had a feeling that he cared for me just as much as I did him.

My feet carried me out the doors and to the parking lot. I fished my keys out of my bag and slowed as I reached the spot where I had parked my car. The only problem was the space was empty. I stood there for a second, the rain falling violently, in complete confusion. I had parked here, hadn't I? My eyes searched the rest of the parking lot and still didn't see my car.

I felt him before I heard him. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck standing up pleasantly. He beeped his horn and I turned around.

There he stood, the door to the cab of his truck open. He wasn't wearing a jacket, in fact, he appeared to be steaming slightly. He motioned me towards him.

I walked across the small parking lot got into the door he held open for me. I buckled up and watched him run around the truck to his side and got in. I then let myself to look into those eyes.

Beads of rain clung to his lashes and his bright eyes lingered on me. I looked at his wet skin in fascination, wondering if it would feel as good against my hands in real life. So hot and smooth, and so right next to mine.

His whispered words were unintentionally intimate. "A little birdie told me you would be without transportation."

"Did this birdie happen to be six and half feet of wasted space and own a garage? Did he take my car to quote unquote 'pimp my ride'?"

He laughed and took my hand in his own. I swallowed loudly at the contact, it wasn't as good as a dream, it was better.

"I'll let you in on a little secret Claire," Quil said. "Sometimes with Jake, things are better left unknown. It's what allows us to keep our sanity."

I was quiet, unable to stop myself from thinking of my dream. I was just happy that he was near me, unharmed and undead. I could breathe easy for a little while.


	14. The Brick Wall

**_PLEASE READ: This leaves off after the party and ends with Quil picking her up. Sorry for the confusion. The dialogue is mostly back story, meant to fill in some characters lives and to add some humor. Just sit back and read that middle section, speculating will do you no good, theres no foreshadowing there. This is meant to be Quil's 'eye opener' and not posted to correspond with Claires last chapter. Again sorry for the confusion. Read and enjoy!_**

**Music: Petals by The Honorary Title**

Chapter 14. The Brick Wall

"_Our lives improve only when we take chances - and the first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves."_

_--Walter Anderson_

When we got to the house we dropped off our stuff, and both changed into a pair of sweat pants. Jake was in the kitchen eating a sandwich when I came down. He dug around in a drawer and came out with a long strip of suede and handed it to me.

He shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and turned to me. His eyes fell to my scar (for lack of a better word). I got a really good look at the inside of his mouth when his jaw dropped. I couldn't help myself from looking down too.

The best way to describe it is when someone gets a limb amputated and the body heals over the stub. It looked strange and obviously unnatural, grotesque and horror movie-ish.

"Damn," Jake muttered stepping back to get a better look. "How the fuck did that happen?"

I turned my back to him and started the short walk out the front door. "You saw it Jake, you were the one who found me after all. We might be able to heal incredibly fast, but we're not starfish. We can't regenerate, or in this case, re-grow bone."

He snorted behind me while he locked the door. "I guess, but shit man…"

I gave him a mocking smile as we walked into the trees. "Hey, at least I went down two pants sizes. You know how I hated my hips before."

"Too bad it didn't do anything for that bubble butt of yours."

I allowed the fire to skip up my spine and felt my body convulse. For a couple seconds all I was aware of was the pain. The feeling of your bones breaking apart and fusing into a larger and drastically different shape. Each time, it hits you differently, when your bones disappear altogether and your just skin and muscle. But then, just when you think you'll never breathe again, you are pushed through that small doorway between universes and you're free.

I stretched in my wolf form, spreading out my paws and shaking out my legs. My eyes met with Jakes, all the forms of communication present. _Ready or what?_

My muscles tensed and felt a smile pull at my snout strangely. _Ready…set…go!_

We went off at a flat out run, side by side. I let everyone's voices fill my head like smoke, intoxicating and fascinating.

* * *

I slept better that night then I had in years. My dreams were fuzzy snapshots, of Claire or course. Only, they weren't of a five year old child, but the Claire of the present. Her touch on my face. Her angel's song. Her uninhibited smile. Her perfect body.

The cold shower I took calmed me down. I found myself grinning, feeling like the hormonal teenage boy I had once been. Waking up overly excited and throbbing. Just another one of the things I was going to have to get used to.

I found Jake cracking a dozen eggs into a bowl and beating them crazily in the kitchen. It looked different in the dim light of the storm going on outside, homier somehow. I felt more at ease here then I had before.

There was a half finished jug of orange juice in the fridge which I sat down at the table with and two bananas. I watched Jake cook while I ate my snack. He cooked like he did everything else: wildly and eccentrically. He danced and sang as he dropped the eggs in the pan and put the bread in the toaster.

"Sooo," he said as he grated a huge block of cheddar cheese. "Any questions?"

I knew immediately what he was referring to. The night before had been exhilarating and fun, but had opened me up to a lot of things I had missed. I decided to start with the easiest question.

"Colin got a cat?" Jake snickered in response.

"Oh yeah, two years ago. The thing _hates_ him though, attacks him whenever Colin goes into the same room. Me and Embry got it for him as a birthday present, you can thank me later by the way, want to know the first thing it did? Peed on the carpet and scratched Colin's legs till he was bleeding. It's a good thing he heals so well or else he would just a big scar."

"Well, of course the cat was going to hate him."

"Want to know the best part, though? Guess what Colin named the cat."

"Tiger?"

"No,…" he grinned manically. "Colin."

I spit out my orange juice. "He named the cat after himself?"

"Yeah, he said that he liked the name _so much_ he felt the need to pass it on to the next generation."

"Doesn't that get confusing, having two Colin's?"

"We started calling him Dog Colin and the cat, Cat Colin. We're convinced Cat Colin is the devil incarnated though. He attacked Dog Colin when he was hiding in the bath tub."

"But cats don't like water."

"Not Cat Colin, apparently it only increases his powers of mutilation."

I moved on to the next subject, too disturbed by this one. "So Jared and Kim are happy."

"Yeah, she's pregnant _again_. God, you'd think after four kids you would have had enough."

"They're worried about their oldest, Matt, right?"

Jake sighed as he took the eggs out of the pan. "Yeah, he's only eleven but their worried that he and Trevor and Connor…well, if things don't get better…that they might…"

"Get triggered."

"Yeah, I mean, Colin and Seth were only 13 and 14 when the gene got triggered in them. Jared and Sam just don't that to be their life. None of us do." He put a plate down in front of me.

"And Leah is still…Leah."

"Oh, yeah that bitchiness couldn't fade with time."

"You were tormenting her with that song." I pointed out.

Jake jumped up and started to dance. "_I'm sexy, I'm cute, I'm popular to boot. I'm bitch'n, great hair, the boys all love to stare. I'm wanted, I'm hot, I'm everything your not. I'm pretty, I'm cool, I dominate this school. Who am I just guess, guys wanna touch my chest! I'm rockin', I smile and many think I'm wild. I'm flyin', I jump, you can look but don't you hump! Whoo!"_

I was laughing so hard I was falling out of my chair. Had he memorized the dance too? Now he was starting the kick line.

_"I'm danger, I roar, I swear I'm not a whore. We cheer and we lead. We act like we're on speed. You hate us cause we're beautiful, well we don't like you either. We're cheerleaders, we are cheerleaders. Roll call! Call me—"_

"No!" I gasped on the floor. "Stop! Stop! Have mercy!"

"You should thank me for getting rid of her, her thoughts are like taking a bath in toxic waste."

"Seriously, Jake. Bring It On?"

He smiled contently and went back to eating. "I discovered these powers of mine a few years ago. The first song I did was "I Like Big Butts", I was thereafter attacked by a very furious and very feminist Leah."

We ate in silence for a minute. "So, Embry…"

He didn't even look up, just nodded.

"He imprinted…"

He met my eyes, nodded again.

"On Cara."

He sighed and put his fork down. "About three months after you left. You know how he was visiting his dying grandma in South Dakota? Well, between that and everything that was going on he wasn't really able to spend much time at Sam and Emily's. And if he was she was either gone or asleep. But, fate cannot be denied, so it was only a matter of time."

I swallowed the hard lump of food in my mouth. "How'd he take it?"

Jake shook his head. "About as well as you did. At first anyway. It's not something that can be repressed is it? But, Embry is Embry."

I had snapshots in my head, but not a clear story. "What happened?"

"For a month he tried to spend every minute with her and be her everything. Then she got a cold. It wasn't too bad, just a little fever. But she was a little drama queen and screamed for 48 hours straight. She was too hot and thirsty that she wouldn't let him hold her. He couldn't comfort her or comfort himself, all he wanted was to hold her and make her smile but she didn't want any of it. Two days later, on three hours of sleep, Embry decided he couldn't take it anymore and decided to distance himself."

"Did it work?" I asked, strangely fascinated.

"Only to a degree. He embraced his protective side and became the most pushy and demanding older brother ever. She wasn't allowed to call him Embry anymore; he was now 'Uncle'. Cara kind of despised him for it. So until a month ago they were just kind of orbiting each other. Both too afraid and set in their ways to do anything but fight."

"What happened?" The images were violent.

"Cara got a boyfriend." I groaned at the thought of what _that_ would do to _me_. "So Embry did the only thing he knew to do, he acted on instinct. He went to pick Cara up after school one day and she didn't show up. He went looking for her and found her behind school by the dumpsters making out with the kid. Embry ripped them apart and started threatening and hitting the little punk."

From Embry's thoughts last night I knew his guilt over that incident. I could still see the look on the 14 year olds face as he cringed away from Embry.

"Cara got between them and allowed her boyfriend to get away. Then she let Embry have it. She called him every name in the book and said she hated him. She started crying and hitting him. By then Embry couldn't control himself anymore and ran hoping to get away."

"He couldn't though."

"Nope, Cara was on his heels, still not finished with him. He made it to the forest outside school before he lost his control. She saw the whole thing and she screamed and screamed and thought she had gone insane. Of course, when she finally got home, she forced Sam to tell her. He did and Cara will never forgive him or Embry."

I grimaced at what Claire would do when she found out. Yes, she would find out. After everything I didn't have the strength to keep such things from her. This story gave me something to think of though.

"I don't know if you noticed but they steered clear of each other during the party and haven't spoken since the incident. He would apologize in a heart beat but she refuses to listen to him. I think it's because she found out about imprinting and it scares her. She didn't have a chance to bond with him really before and now she's too freaked out to try."

"Embry was always the silent one." I said. "You never knew what he was thinking and he always made choices that he found best. Him snapping like he did is completely in character. He always did love too hard and never knew how to handle it."

"Yep," Jake said taking our dishes to wash. "You on the other hand had a very boring life for the past twelve years."

I frowned. "So that's why nobody asked, they knew they would find out eventually."

He turned from the sink and raised his eyebrows. "Quil, really?"

"What?" I asked warily.

"You spent all your free time reading _poetry_ and _literature_?"

"So? What else was I supposed to do?" I could feel the flood coming.

"Jane Austen? Robert Burns? The Bronte sisters? Tolstoy? Pablo Neruda? Shakespeare? _Dante?_" He sounded appalled.

I gave him a hard look. "I enjoyed The Divine Comedy a lot."

"Come on, that's the biggest boring-ist book I've ever read two pages of and then used as a door stopper."

"'He loves but little who can say and count in words how much he loves.'"

"Oh, geez, now your going to be sprouting poetry like a fruit cake."

"'At loves touch everyone becomes a poet.' Plato."

"Quil. Stop."

"' They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.' Shakespeare."

He held up the frying pan threateningly. "Quit it."

"Fine, but what about you? What you've been doing hasn't been any less delusional."

"You mean besides becoming a legendary sex god?"

"Yes, that. You've been dating."

"Oh, don't sound so surprised Oh Virginal One."

"I just don't understand why."

"What's it to you, anyway, Sexually Challenged?"

"Nothing, I'm just, I don't know concerned. You know how messy that kind of thing can get for our kind."

"Our kind? What are we some kind of rare form of space ape?'

"Might as well be. I mean having to live inside Sam and Leah's head for five seconds should be enough to dispel your urge to do what you're doing."

"What is that? Besides trying to be normal and happy and give things a chance. I am not you Quil; or Sam or Jared or Embry. I am Paul and Colin and Seth and Leah. Without a center of gravity or purpose. So I'm sorry if I can't play by your rules, but I'm not sitting around for another couple decades waiting for something that might never happen."

I had become so comfortable in this familiar bickering that I had dropped the pretense of this conversation. "No, you're just sick of sitting around for what already happened. You miss Bella."

His gaze first grew hot and spiteful, then cold and blank. He got up from his perch on the counter and moved into the living room. Without pause I followed him.

"Alright, that was low, but I'm serious. Nobody wants another Leah situation on our hands—"

He turned on me with new found rage in his eyes.

"Fine, I'm not saying that's what's gonna happen. But it's always a possibility. Ten years from now you could have a perfectly happy life, with a wife and the kids and the white picket fence. But one moment, _one second_, Jake, could shatter every dream you had and everything you ever built your self."

"How would you know?"

I was momentarily stumped. "What do you mean?"

He slumped into the couch, his arms crossed and a glum expression on his face. "You've never known anyone but Claire. You don't know what it's like to look at somebody for the first time wonder to yourself, who are they?, what could they mean to me?, could they make me into a stranger?, could they save me?

Sure Bella was different, and I'll never forget or regret her. She made her choice, and sucks for me, I wasn't it. That however does not mean that I get to give up on finding someone, no matter how naturally and simply. That does not give me license to feel scorned or let down because I wasn't right for _her_.

You never know, Quil, maybe somebody needs me out there just as much as I need them. Sure it would be great to have a clean and uncomplicated imprinting, but the odds are not in my favor. So I took the road easily chosen, but hardest to travel."

The seconds ticked by as we both ingested his little tirade. I made up my mind to let go. "Your right and I'm sorry. I just, I guess…I just don't want another broken heart around here you know. I don't want another Quil out there, and God knows, I don't want another Claire."

Jake heaved a sigh and climbed out of the depths of the couch. "Yeah, me either. You're entirely too meddling for your own good, Captain Wet Dreams."

"Tis only one of my many becoming attributes."

"Aye, good sir, tis."

My mind took a 180 degree turn and I made up my mind to make a much needed visit. I got up in search of some shoes.

"Where you going, Master Hard On?"

"To see our elder, Sir Jacob."

"Go on, Little Go Peep, with my wishes, entreat the past."

* * *

We had gone and gotten my car after our run last night. I hadn't expected it to be running yet, but Jake had replaced a part and changed my oil and I was off. He told me I was going to have to pay him back with the money I got from him pimping me out. I told him no problem, as long as I got to keep my tips. Anyway, that's why I was driving across town at 11:00 on a Thursday morning.

La Push hadn't changed much since I had left. All of the same business's with the same people running it. The only new business was the dinner and the second gas station (a useless endeavor if you ask me, entertainment wasn't in driving distance so gas was not really a gate way drug to bigger and better things). A couple of side roads had been paved and lined with houses. There the tour stopped.

I wasn't really nervous, my anxiety was different. If there was somebody I knew who would call me on my crap, it was my grandfather. He's not a hard ass or anything, just omnipotent in his uncanny knack for detecting lies and diversion. It wasn't him I feared but what he would bring up. I loved the old guy but he never let me down easy.

I drove to the gray one-story house without thinking. I turned off the engine and stared at it for a minute. I did the math in my head. It had been seven years since I had last spoken to him. I knew from our run last night that he was still kicking and wanted to see me, apparently he was in contact with Sam.

The door opened within four seconds of my knock, revealing my grandfather. The breath dissipated in my chest at his face. His hair was just a thin shock of white brushed over his head and his face was road map of wrinkles. One of his eyes was slightly milky and his lips had disappeared altogether. The hunch in his shoulders, once barely visible, was now severely angled.

I felt sick. There was something about him that made me realize all my faults, all my mistakes. Twelve years I had been gone. I had not visited once. The opportunity to learn and live with this wise man had been thrown away. I had given up the chance to help him and gratify him. When someone got old it was the same as a child, not just that they were unable to care for themselves, but that they needed you more than ever. I had denied him his only living blood relation, the last piece of himself he had on this earth.

I stepped beyond the threshold and embraced him. I stooped and gently and firmly grabbed hold of him. His smell was so familiar, the pungent aroma of burning herbs and Dial soap. He felt like a sack of bones in my arms, fragile and jumbled. His sheer brittleness only spoke higher of his age and experience. Even though losing him, as I would sometime soon, would break me down, it could not reduce the impact he had on my life and would continue to have on my world.

He pulled away to look at me with those flat, ancient eyes. His hands came up to touch my face and trace my features. The honesty he held in his stance was all ways present. He saw what others refused to see and spoke of things anyone else would be too afraid to.

Grandpa sighed, a small and broken down sound. He removed his arms but kept one hand held up high on my shoulder. "Come, son, there is much to talk about."

With that he led me through the dim hallway into the living room where the fireplace was burning brightly, the only light and heat in the entire house. He sat painfully down into a leather recliner and I got myself comfortable on the couch. The silence ticked by as he continued to stare at me. I felt like he was ripping my skin away from my bones to get a closer look inside. I shifted in my seat and hoped he would be done soon.

"Why?" his question took on a life as it floated to my ears, digging deep into my brain and infiltrating my thoughts.

He had gotten to the question that was most important but what people thought was useless to ask. My jaw clenched as I considered how to answer that. There was no one thing because as life goes the shames and the mistakes had added up into a mountain.

"Because I couldn't let her love me anymore."

He stared at me, willing me to let it out. To not hold back the truth, to let my indecision go. His eyes gentle prodding forced me to consent.

"Because I couldn't let myself claim her as my own anymore."

He was shaking his head before I had even finished speaking. The look he gave me was not pity or disgust, it was something worse; disappointment. "You can do better than that, Quil. That is a weak reason for your actions and it's not true and we both know it."

The words flowed like water from my mouth, clear and fast. "It was part of it though. It's what it all came down to in the end."

"No, Quil, you can not say the end is what matters. The end is not the answer to your problems. The question holds every answer you will ever need."

"What does that even mean?" I couldn't help the frustration seeping into my tone.

"It means, quite literally, that the outcome of our actions does not decide our fate. Our decisions and questioning ourselves are what set us free. You can not cling to that rock any longer, you must let the current take you."

As if on cue I felt my emotions wash over me. Crash against my being. "I didn't deserve it. Any of it."

He nodded, like he had known all along. For a second I was shocked at myself but it sank in quickly enough. I was already accepting it.

"I didn't deserve everybody's respect and admiration. I didn't deserve their sympathy and trust. I didn't deserve Claire. I didn't deserve to be her friend or her playmate or her lover. I didn't deserve our love, not like some did."

"Why?" He seemed just as anxious as me to know the question behind it all.

"Because I didn't earn it. Because I took it, greedily and hungrily. I let myself become someone I didn't recognize. I had been childish and anxious, ready to save what didn't need to be saved and ready to ignore what needed me. I wasn't enough for her. I couldn't have been enough for her when I didn't even know who I was."

For once he looked away from my face, stared into the flames. "How could this have been prevented?"

I answered warily and assuredly. I had thought enough of that question in the past twelve years to know it in my heart. "It couldn't have. I would never take back loving Claire, even if it was the beginning of the end. None of it could have been prevented."

He leaned forward, excited somehow. "Why is that?"

There was a brick wall in front of me that had stood between me and everything I loved. It had been there for over a decade, frustrating and confusing me. I had tried to climb over it every day because my fists had been ineffective. Now though I felt like I knew the weak point in the construction of the wall. Just one hit and it would all crumble.

There was a burning in my eyes and nose. A large lump in my throat was forming. My vision was blurred by helpless tears. The breaths that I took were too desperate and shallow. I felt so close to this enlightenment he offered that I was overcome by it.

My hands came up to my face trying to push it all back inside. It was too late though; my shoulders were shaking and the water in my eyes was overflowing. I felt out of control of my body, of life and of my future. I was being betrayed, being pushed into the light that I had shied away from.

I heard some shuffling as Grandpa fought to stand, to reach me. "Why, Quil? Why?"

I struggled for air, to speak to live. My voice came out like sandpaper. I was choking on the words, my voice cracking. "Because it wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault."

I felt the springs in the couch groan at his weight as he sat beside me. His thin arms gathered me to him, allowing me to let it out. I rested my forehead on his small shoulder still shaking too hard to hug him back.

"It's not my fault…" I gasped over and over again, each time easier than the last. "I didn't…I couldn't have stopped it…She…she…wasn't my fault…"

He stiffened slightly at my mention of that little girl. Did he not know that I thought of her constantly? Unable to suppress the guilt and grief.

"They were the ones who…I couldn't stop it…" I was quieting down but a new wave, harder and stronger, took me back under. "I wasn't the one who did it…She isn't…isn't … because of me….I didn't do that to her…"

He just hummed softly in my ear and let me cry. I couldn't remember the last time I had really cried like this, but I didn't honestly care. I had let go of baggage that had been a ball and chain to me, weight that wasn't even my own. The rocking motion he provided helped me float back to the surface.

"It's not my fault…" I whimpered. "I didn't do it…It's not my fault…"

* * *

I drove home two hours later feeling like a dried up sponge. All the water had been squeezed out of me but the holes were still there just waiting to be filled. Grandpa had gotten me tea and something to eat and we didn't talk about the reasons why anymore. Instead we caught up on each others lives, neither of us really having that much to say.

We did talk about Claire though, a lot. Not only was it something that interested me but also intrigued him. He had said that he felt like Claire was a granddaughter to him and not only because of her connection to me. He had had the pleasure of seeing her on holidays and tribe events and thought very highly of her. He loved her too.

I felt a strange mix of emotions at this. Pride in Claire. Jealousy that he got to know her. Confusion about her. Anger that anyone could know her better that me. _Guilt _that anyone could know her better than me. Excitement that she had become so closely tied into my life, or should I say, my former life. Then, the ever present anxiety of being away from her.

Today had been hard but it was necessary. I couldn't keep on like this, keeping Claire at arms length and hiding behind walls made by my own two hands. Walls built with blocks guilt and fright and glued together by false pretenses.

It had been fair that I would spend twelve years in purgatory. Right that I would be punished. The unfair thing in all this was Claire. For I had put her in a hell that was undeserved, brought her along on my destructive and harrowing journey of self-discovery. That had been what it was, too; me figuring out what hell I was doing with myself.

My eyes narrowed as I came into the driveway. There sitting in the driveway, was Claire's car. School hadn't got out yet and knowing Jake he'd think it'd be funny to leave someone without transportation. _God damn moron, _I thought. _What the hell is he doing?_

Jake was gorging himself on buttered popcorn when I came in and watching _Show Girls_ for some ungodly reason. It was just at the scene where the girl gets pushed down the stairs. He looked up, cheeks filled like a chipmunk, and saw my set jaw and fiery eyes.

"Oh, don't get your panties in a twist Cruela." He said with his mouth still full. "My genius will astound you in this endeavor."

I crossed my arms ready to get physical if necessary. "Enlighten me."

"Well," he said as he swallowed. "I thought to myself, 'Aphrodito, how could you get your two good friends to stop pussy footing around and get down to business about their relationship?' then my other personality answered—"

I rolled my eyes, it only figures that he would have multiple personality disorder.

"'Well, Peoples Sexiest Man of All Time, now that Quil has a car he could drive her somewhere allowing some quality time.' 'But, dear Aphrodito, Claire has a car of her own.' 'Easily dealt with, PSMAT, we will simply steal her vehicle under the pretense of supping it up.' 'Bloody brilliant idea, old chap!' 'Down right incomparable, general!' 'Absolutely, positively—'"

"So what you're saying is that Claire has no way of getting home?" I interrupted with an absurd urge to hit his head against the wall repeatedly to see if it really was empty.

"You can thank me later. Call me Mother Teresa or Gandhi or some really fucking giving and amazing person like that."

"Shut your damn trap, Jacob." I growled as I leaned into the hall to get a look on the clock. 2:13. Half hour until school lets out.

"Or, a really famous match maker. Know any? Or hey, is there a Saint known for matchmaking because I'm them." I grabbed an umbrella out of the closet and tried to ignore his incessant chatter. "I'm like their reincarnation or something. I'm _that_ good. Oh, shit, I have it! I'm like Cupid, man. You know without the diaper and the wings because diapers make my legs look short—"

"I hate you and I will kick your ass when I get back." I said on the way out the door.

"Love you too, sweet-ums!"

I had sat in the cab for twenty minutes kicking myself for allowing Jack some alone time (it was like giving a small child a knife) when I saw her coming across the parking lot. My chest swelled with air just by looking at her. She had her hair up into a messy bun and wore brown cords and a sky blue t-shirt. He jacket was flapping around in the wind and rain while she searched for her car.

She had her back to me as I got out of the car and honked the horn to get her attention. She turned sharply and then without hesitating made her way toward me. As she came closer I became concerned by her appearance. She had circles under her eyes and a frown on her face. She also didn't meet my eyes as I held the door open for her and helped her in.

I got in on my side and turned the heat up and the music down. I wasn't cold at all, actually the freezing rain had felt nice, but Claire had gotten wet and her body temperature was lower then mine. I looked at her, waiting for her eyes to find me. When she did I was immediately sucked into her dark chocolate orbs. What was she thinking looking at me that way? Probing and deep.

She felt so close in this confined space that I felt the need to speak quietly. "A little birdie told me you would be without transportation."

Her eyes widened and then the most beautiful scowl/pout graced her face. "Did this birdie happen to be six and half feet of wasted space and own a garage? Did he take my car to quote unquote 'pimp my ride'?" She finished using air quotes.

Wow, did she know Jake well. I laughed at how perceptive and involved she was. I grabbed one of her small cool hands into mine without thinking. "Allow me to let you in on a little secret, Claire. Sometimes with Jake, things are better left unknown. It's what allows us to keep our sanity."

She was staring at our entwined fingers, biting her bottom lip. I wondered if I was making her uncomfortable, but waiting for her to pull away. She didn't and I just looked at her for a second. God, she was the most beautiful and enticing creature I had ever seen. The way she caught her full, pink bottom lip between her teeth was driving me crazy with love and desire.

I maneuvered my way out of the parking lot and onto the street using only one hand. Someone would have to kill me to get me to let go of her. She was silent, back to frowning. I wanted desperately to know what she was thinking but felt somehow that she needed the quiet. I wanted to pull her to me but knew she needed her space.

A heavy, meaningful silence infiltrated the cab. We both felt the need to speak but couldn't find the words to back it up. I had made my decision though, and my Grandpa had helped me. "Quil," he had said. "She's not a normal girl and what you two have is not normal by any definition. Do what feels right and don't question yourself. She may not remember the things you did or said years ago, but she remembers you. She may not recognize it yet, but she feels it she feels all of it. Trust me."

What felt right was getting back what we had once had and more as soon as possible. Nothing felt right without her so that was the only option.

"Oh," I said when I realized I was heading for her house when I wasn't supposed to know where it is. "Where do I turn?"

"Keep going until we reach the First Beach exit." She said with a straight face. I frowned in confusion, she lived fifteen miles from First Beach. What was she getting at?

"Why are we going to the beach?" I inquired as I switched lanes. The idea of being at that beach with her made my stomach clench unnaturally.

"We're not." She sat forward for a minute then turned to me, her eyes serious. "I think we should go to the cliffs."

I feared the answer, yet another answer to this question today. "Why?"

She took a deep breath and let me have it. "Because, quit honestly, I need some answers. And because I can tell you need some of you own. Not to mention the fact that I just want to be with you. Is that okay with you Quil, me just wanting to be with you?"

It was my turn to breathe heavily and prepare myself for the words that were about to leave my mouth. I tried to suppress the joy that was making my heart pound erratically. I also tried to push away an unbidden feeling of sorrow at her words. "Yes, Claire, that is more than alright. Nothing would make me happier."

She smiled slightly, lighting up my world, and pulling my hand into her lap. "Good," she said as she traced patterns on the back of my hand. "Then we're on the same page."

**Everybody go awww. Sorry this took longer than usual (6, 122 words!) and is a little bipolar, but it is extra long with tons of dialogue and inflection. Plus it gets us moving along nicely with the plot. **

**The Reason Quil left: Patience grass hoppers it's coming. I beg you to just accept the story as it is and to stress over it at this point in the story. I promise it will be worth the wait.**

**Question: I made some (amateur) sketches of Quil and Claire but I don't know how to get them up for you guys to see. If anyone wants to help out drop a PM or a review for me. Or just review, review, review! **


	15. Say Anything

**Music: Say It to Me Now by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova (lyrics), Lifeline by Angels and Airwaves, Crazy by Adele**

Chapter 15. Say Anything

_I'm scratching at the surface now  
And I'm trying hard to work it out  
So much has gone misunderstood  
This mystery only leads to doubt  
And I didn't understand  
When you reached out to take my hand  
And if you have something to say  
You'd better say it now_

The silence, once filled and comforting, soon became stifled and awkward. Our moment had slipped away and had left us just as stranded as we had been before. I could feel a strange mossy feeling spreading in my chest. I couldn't place it but it felt like it had sat there for a long time and had grown until it pushed on my lungs.

It made me squirm in my seat and avoid Quil's eyes. He had taken his hand away to make a wide turn and when he had finished rested it invitingly on the console between us. I had not taken it. There it sat all the way to parking lot below the cliffs. Just sitting there like an open book I was too afraid to read.

As soon as the engine was turned off I jumped out of the car and headed for the trail that leads to the top of the cliffs. I heard him mutter behind, scramble out of the car and run towards me. He caught up just as my feet hit the worn dirt path. He kept pace exactly with me, whether I speeded up or slowed down. He always met me step for step, refusing to either be left behind or be left alone a step ahead.

He helped me over rocks and fallen trees caught me when I fell and held shrubbery out of the way for me but he never forced contact with me. Still his every touch, no matter how small or necessary, set my skin ablaze and tingling. My face grew so hot I could swear he could feel the heat. Sure, it was embarrassment at being so helpless, but I could also feel a little bit of anger seep into it. Why did he have to affect me this way? What did his eyes see while he stared ceaselessly at me? When would we stop this infuriating little dance of give and take? This endless game of twenty questions and specially dropped hints?

I'm not sure how long it took, no more than a half hour, but long enough to get me a little worked up and irritated. The trees thinned and the sun swallowed us up. Soon the edge of the cliff could be seen, a jagged edge resembling a broken heart. That thought only increased my pulse, for now I could very well get my heart broken. I had never put myself in a situation where I could be seriously compromised or hurt. I had always had a layer, a wall if you will, against me and everyone else. Clear plexi-glass with holes in it like a mental asylum cell.

Neither of us could help but to admire our surroundings. The sun was dropping in the sky and was just at the right angle to set the world ablaze in white fire. The trees were only one or two at the edge but were huge and ancient. Here we sat, each with our backs against our own gnarled grandfather tree facing each other. I kept my legs to myself and rolled my head to look over the water. It was not as if I was on the top of the world, although I was quite high, but more like I was falling but still. Screaming but quiet. Everywhere at once and going nowhere. Like in that moment I was somebody different. Somebody stronger or braver or more self-sacrificing.

Or maybe I had just been introduced to myself.

I forced myself to appreciate the feel of the rays on my face. How the deep blue water shimmered and rocked. That the rain clouds had parted for now allowing the light through. The greens and browns of the earth. The endless expanses of blue sky and sea. The out of place little moon that hung high in the sky, patiently waiting its own turn for a journey around the world. I made myself look, to create a mental picture to accompany the words that would be said or thrown.

I gave in to my eyes only wish and finally looked Quil straight in the face. His amazing eyes were locked on the far off line where the sky met the sea. So I just watched him, drew him in a little with my mind. I was opening like a flower (you have no idea how much I hate that expression, but there it is) and all I really wanted was a little piece of Quil, of the world, of love to call my own. To give myself to. To melt with.

All that was there, on the surface, but underneath it all was the gross mossy feeling. The apparent lack of knowledge that I knew I needed but felt comfortable without. I was love struck and blind but I was still logical. I still needed something, a small bit of knowledge or reciprocation, to hang onto in the face of this blinding door of light.

I wanted to say something but it wasn't coming. Every word felt like a bowling ball dropping out of my mouth. All the pretty words in the world that people in movies and in songs used evaded me. So I decided to be direct, forward and hopefully composed. "I don't know you."

He nodded his face blank. If we really were strangers like we were supposed to be, I wouldn't have noticed the small muscle in his jaw twitch or the tightening of his mouth. Tell tale signs that he had in fact been affected by my words.

Despite my will I felt myself grow small and quiet under his flat gaze. "I know nothing about you. Nothing. No matter what it feels like, it's not okay. It's not okay to put my trust into a complete stranger like this. It isn't right to talk to you like I've known you all my life. It's just not…enough, maybe…no it's not prudent."

Even he cocked his eyebrow questionably.

"Yes, prudent is a very gay word, but it kind of sums things up doesn't it? You me we're just sitting here staring at each other and I feel like I'm the only one thinking 'what the hell is going on?' Because that's how it feels. I see it in your eyes like you know something I should know and you're not telling me. It's so obvious that I feel like its being beaten over my head but hey I still don't know.

It's frustrating as hell. It's not supposed to happen like this. There's supposed to be this huge lead up to it and all this awkwardness and unassuredness. It's supposed to be slow and steady, not quick and lurching. It's supposed to be a dance not a car crash. I feel like I'm doing it all wrong, breaking all the cultural ideals."

I sighed heavily unable to keep it in any longer. "I guess I just feel like it's not normal."

I looked down to my lap where I was wringing my hands. There I had cut open a wound and now it was his choice to cut even deeper or let it fester. His voice did come, a hundred times gentler than I expected. "That's because it isn't."

I chanced a glance up and got caught again. His eyes were soft and full of, something…a mix of admiration and respect and adoration. It was as if he were just letting himself look, without barriers or pretenses. It was too much though, too soon.

I forced myself to speak before I got any closer. "What do you mean?"

"This isn't normal. I think that what we have will never be normal. And, quite honestly, I would never want it to be. I would never want what we have be belittled or clichéd. I'm too…present, Claire. I'm too invested to let this go down in flames, not—"

He cut himself off leaving me there still floating, too shocked to swim anymore. I felt so scared in that moment. His words were too heartfelt and honest. His eyes too tortured and pleading. I felt like forgetting my argument in the first place and just take his declaration and run. Yet, I couldn't.

I wanted everything he said to be true. I wanted it to be only the start of many wonderful words to come. I wanted it desperately and needed it helplessly. I wished I could skip all this, a small part of me just wanted a new normal to come along. So the constant limbo and mystery would end. Yet, it couldn't.

He could love me, I forced myself to think. He could want me in everyway. He could protect me in everyway. He could love me in everyway. He could make me his everything, his one and only, his whole heart. Yet, he couldn't.

The words 'love', 'protect', 'want', 'everything' never once left his mouth. I was glad of it in a sick way. I wasn't ready to be sucked up yet. Not ready for the true potential, the highest mountain, and the greatest sea.

I was seventeen years old and in love. Not for the first time and not for the last. For the only. I would never feel anything for anybody like I did for this beautiful stranger and I knew it. I would never have a first boyfriend, a third or a last. I would never have a boyfriend period. That word would never be adequate or worthy for Quil.

This was it, the one and only time I would be here. The end of being a girl, of being dreamy and optimistic. I had met my soul mate and this was it, forever. That would be enough to scare even the most brave and serious person.

Where was it that I read, "some people fall in love over and over again, and others can only seem to do it once"? I wasn't a ball; I couldn't bounce back from this. This was my one shot, my only chance. Black and white, no gray in sight. Fly or fall. Live or die.

I didn't know how to say these things to him. So I sat there. Everything had been stripped away, ripped open and left bleeding. Pressure had to be applied, bandages brandished. Comforting hands and lips used.

I exhaled sharply. "I don't know what you mean. Why are you so cryptic? Why isn't it normal? God, Quil this is where it really gets me. I know…you…this…there's an explanation. Why are you in this like you say you are? Why do you care?"

He looked sad, like I had let him down in some way. My heart sank. "I can't tell you that. Your just there all the time in the forefront of my mind." He paused as my eyes widened and sighed in frustration. "You're not ready. For this, for me. For all of it, not yet. I don't want to come sweeping into your life and take over. I want you to want this, need this, like.."

I felt fear spark in my core and the only way to express it was anger. "How dare you tell me what I'm feeling. I have just as much heart as you for this, just as much soul. I want this, damn it, don't tell me I don't. All it is is that I refuse to be left in the dark on the entire premise of…this…our…thing!"

His face was the painting of shock. He didn't know it yet but I was an outburst kind of person. I pushed things down until emotions bubbled over. Quil shook his head like he was in his own personal nightmare. His hands came up to cover his face. "Oh, shit, Claire. Why does this have to be so damn hard?"

"Shut up!" My palm slapped the ground beside me and then balled into a fist. Even as I spoke I was appalled at myself, "You can't talk about hard, know hard like I do. You're the one with everything I wish I had. You _refuse_ to let me in fully, let me know. Obviously you're not as 'present' as you say you are if you can't just say it. If you really care just say it damn it!"

I fell back against the tree my hand against my throat in shock. Was I really that mad, that bitter over something so new and innocent? Or was I just frustrated over everything, not Quil, just life? How come I blow up like this at him?

A little voice in the back of my head answered, Because you don't really think he could ever hate you. You believe, deep down, that he'll care about you no matter what.

I pressed my fingers against my eyes hoping to quell the shameful tears pricking the back of my eyes. I felt like a complete ungrateful bitch. I didn't want to be that girl, I hated that girl. She was stupid and petty and destructive.

I whispered to myself, so quiet I didn't think he could hear me. "I'm so fucking horrible."

"No." I couldn't look at him, see that shock and probably disgust. "No, Claire your not. It's my fault. If I wasn't…what I am, this wouldn't be happening. I wouldn't be putting you through this—"

"Don't." I said thinly and scornfully, too exhausted by now to get up some volume. "Don't placate me and be all chivalrous. Don't think this is one sided or silly. Don't you take the blame because that doesn't make me feel better. It makes me out to be the helpless damsel at the fate of your cruel and evil hands. I'm not her, Quil; don't treat me like I am. Do you really think so little of me?"

"No!" he said, the outraged one now. "Is that what you really think of _me_?" He searched my eyes in panic as if searching for the truth. "Why, Claire, why don't you believe me?"

I was breathing heavily now and could feel frustrated tears coming on. Too overcome I was forced to drop my head to avoid his pleading eyes. I myself was panicking now, it was all so messed up, all so hard to talk about.

I managed to say, pathetically, "I don't know how to believe what I don't understand."

There was a long, still silence, then a deep gasp. "Oh, Claire," It was like every word was ripped straight from his chest, his soul. So painful. "You don't believe I mean what I say. How could you look me in the eye and hear the sincerity in my voice and not know. I'm telling you all the time, using different words, using no words; I'm always trying to tell you. Give you what you need, no matter how small a consolation it may be."

I looked up and the restrained hope in my eyes was enough for him to continue.

"I don't want you to think that I take this lightly, Claire." I felt such a shock at my own name, his own twist and music on it. "I am utterly serious when I say these things. I would never want you to doubt how I feel, because you could never be more wrong. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you looked at this and felt…unsure of me…

I know you're scared and confused. I look in _your_ eyes and see that need to know why. I am so sorry, but I can't say. I can't just say it because it would…it's not…there are some things…I can't. _I'm _too scared, Claire. I can't believe I'm saying this, but, I can't put you in that situation, not yet…"

I bit my lip hard enough to break the skin. I couldn't help but be mad, I wanted answers so bad that it was painful. I was disappointed and hurt. My shoulders fell and my head dropped. Why now? Why was everything so hard all the time?

After a couple minutes my eyes pulled upward to look at him. His posture was very similar to mine, slumped and defeated. I felt the red hot emotions flee my body to be replaced by cool, comforting blue ones. I wasn't the only one hurting here, this was hard for Quil too. I was the one leaving him in this pain.

For the first time I was the one reaching for him, beckoning his touch. I sat up on my knees and leaned forward, the better to be closer to him. My fingers tips brushed the feverish skin of his forearm and I felt him flinch. His eyes as they met mine were cautious, worried.

I settled myself closer than I had before, our knees almost touching. I halted my fingers progress on his arm and said, "Okay."

He frowned slightly, like it was hard for him to believe I would just accept that. "Really?"

I forced myself to laugh a little. "Yeah, I guess it's going to have to be okay. I would love some answers but if you're not ready, well, alright. I don't want to force you Quil, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to do."

He still didn't looked relieved or smile. He knew me well to be able to see the truth behind my words, their mask like quality. It wasn't exactly okay, but I would live.

Quil sighed and covered my hand with his massive burning one. "I do want to tell you Claire, I really do. Just not now okay, just not now."

I breathed in deeply, in and out. The suspense was terrible, even now in the first seconds of waiting. How long would I have to wait for this weight to be lifted? How long before it became too much? It will be worth it, I told myself, Quil will be worth it.

"Well," I mused trying my best to smile. "Now that that's out of the way…"

"Yes?" he said smiling for real.

"I think it's time we backed up a little."

"Oh, really?"

I nodded and stuck out my hand in greeting. He laughed in pleasant surprise.

"Hello there," he said shaking my hand. "My names Quil and yours?"

I didn't say anything, though I couldn't help but smile at my little game. I shook my head and patted my throat to show I couldn't speak. I even did the whole zippering shut the mouth movement.

He looked like he was holding back his laughter as he caught one. He managed to clear his face as he said his first line. "You know I feel really bad not knowing your name. Hhmm, maybe I can guess…Is it, Mildred?"

I leaned back in horror and wrinkled my nose in distaste. A firm shake of my head was a definite no.

He grinned. "Oh, okay, no. How about Diana? Rachael?"

No and no.

A bird could be heard close by chirping incessantly and plaintively. Quil perked up and turned to the noise like it was calling to him. Understanding dawned on his face. "Claire?"

My face light up and I leaned forward, nodding so hard my neck hurt.

"Claire?" He smiled triumphantly and I grabbed his hand. "Huh, that's kind of pretty. Okay, Claire."

We stared dreamily into each others eyes for a split second before our pent up hysterics burst free. I don't know why it was so funny reenacting that scene from my second favorite Disney movie, but with Quil it was. He got me, he played along. That was nice.

"Wow," I said out of breath. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. But, I have to ask, where was the talking crab who told you my name?"

"There wasn't, it was all instinct." Quil said proudly.

"Well, aren't I honored?" I said all dramatic.

"You should be," he said laughing again. His face sobered up though. "Even without your name I would always know you, feel you. Always."

I blushed but refused to be embarrassed. It would seem that such lovely words would be said a lot from now on and I would just have to get used to it. Hell, I could come to live for such words.

I almost felt tears in my eyes. I whispered, slightly strangled. "Ditto."

"Well," he said softly. "Now that that's out of the way…"

"Yeah?"

"How are we going to get Jacob back for stealing your car?"

I screwed up my mouth as I thought. "What was his motive?"

"One guess." His eyes bore into mine so hard I felt the oxygen dissipate in my chest. Oh, Lord, he knew how to speak with his eyes. My vision blurred at the edge, finally understanding what it was to get lost in someone's eyes. A whole world in them…

I instinctively leaned forward and our faces were only about a foot apart. I had to close my eyes to the power, the passion, in his eyes. A sharp cracking sound made me jerk back. Quil was swearing and rubbing the back of his head, apparently having smacked it on the tree in his efforts to get away from me. Did I really affect him that much?

He scowled at my laughter. "Hey," I said pointing at him. "You started it."

He smiled self consciously. "Yeah, gotta keep that in check from now on."

"Might be wise." I said commendably.

"So," he said ready to change the subject. "Jake."

"Lets see," I turned my thoughts to our idiot friend. "Humiliation doesn't go over well. Most of the time he just finds it funny and thoroughly enjoys it. One time Billy pulled out the baby pictures and there were these ones of Jake as a buck naked five year old. He was so proud of his 'manhood' as he said and even tried to frame and display them in the living room."

"Yes," Quil said amused. "Jake has always embraced the embarrassing. How about stealing something of his."

I shook my head. "No, Jacob's not very materialistic he could probably care less."

We sat there and then it hit me. "I think I have an idea. You know how Jakes such a big player?" He rolled his eyes at some inside joke and nodded. "I say we give him a date he'll never forget."

"Not bad, Moses, not bad."

Him calling me by my last name gave me a little thrill. "My best friend Maisy and I are set to go see a movie Friday. Jake hates Maisy because she's so nosy and always ruins his fun. Not to mention she's the only person on earth who doesn't think he's the funniest person she's ever met. She never laughs at his jokes, even when it's so incredibly funny, that pisses him off to no end."

Quil looked excited. "Ho do we accomplish this then?"

"Well, neither one can know, the feeling is mutual after all. How about you get him to see the movie and we'll be waiting there for you. I'll even make sure Maisy's in a really foul mood and she'll just attack him on sight. Jakes like her own over sized human stress ball. She just squeezes and squeezes until his eyes pop out."

We both laughed, a little evilly I must admit, Jake in misery was not a common sight. It was a funny sight though.

By now the sun had almost set so we got up and brushed ourselves off. Our hands found each other, naturally and comfortingly. I set off but was pulled sharply back by his hand. I turned around questionably but was halted by the look in his eyes.

He looked down to our entwined fingers and then up my arm to my face. He was telling me something, without words again, asking permission. He took a step forward, still asking. His musky, minty scent hit me hard. Rock hard. I felt my breath catch and heart beat go into double time.

I was drawn, helpless, a moth to a flame. His warmth could be described as standing next to a fire after all. I stumbled forward, the only thing I saw was his eyes. I wasn't close enough. I needed to be closer.

His arms as they slid around me were so hesitant, yet reckless. Like he couldn't help himself. He pulled me quickly and gently to his hard chest. For a moment we froze, both amazed at the contact. Then, we melted.

I fit so perfectly up against him, with my head under his chin my hands locked behind his back. His arms held me fast as if he wouldn't let me leave. His warmth enveloped me and I felt so safe. There was no way I could be hurt when inside these loving steal arms. I had no worries with him so close, no fears or doubts. I needed nothing outside his embrace.

My head was just over his heart and his thundering pulse only made me more excited. I pressed myself against him, trying so hard to get closer. I didn't want to know where I began and he ended.

Quil was just as ecstatic, burying his face in my hair and holding me so close that I could feel my feet almost coming off the ground. His big scalding hands rubbed my back in slow, tantalizing circles.

For the first time I felt his lips on my skin. For real, not a dream. On my forehead. On my hair. On my ear. My stomach clenched sporadically. My every nerve was going haywire and my eyes fluttered.

Time was a meaningless inconvenience, but one of us was sober enough to be aware of it. Quil groaned and pulled away, only to have me latch back on.

He laughed. "Come on, dear, we better get going before its full dark. I have good night vision, but I'm guessing you don't. I don't want you to trip and hurt yourself. Now, that would be a shame."

I released one arm and moved so the side of my body was pressed fully against him. I kept my right arm around him and my head against his upper arm. I sighed, never close enough. Together we walked off into the sunset.

* * *

When I got home I decided to distract myself with the internet. As I sat there I thought about this life changing afternoon. It was a lot of progress, but there was still more to be made.

Things had to happen, I decided as I opened my email. It would take something for him to tell me. I was unusually patient though, when I was motivated enough. Plus, I kind of liked what we had now. It was exciting and comfortable.

I opened up the latest email from Maisy:

_Naught Little Claire Bear,_

_Well, well, little miss mysterious and spontaneous, what have you been up to? I saw this girl climb into a truck with a hunky stranger. You know what, she kind of looked like you…_

_HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!! Keep me in suspense like this? Who is he? How do you know him? What were you _doing_ with him? Geez, your such a 'loose' girl as my mother would say. You wouldn't even spill it to you best friend before you ran away with him…_

_Not that it matters much; you can't possibly like him as much as Jason. I mean your like so into Jason? Right? Hhmm you better be there is that date coming up. I was planning on telling him about you…hhmm… _

_GTTG Luv u!_

_Maisy_

I stared at my computer screen in horror. "Shit!" I practically screamed.

**I hope this satisfied you guys, I tried. Tell me what you think, review!**

**Oh, and i'm thinking of changing the title. The current one, well, has no relvance to the story. Is it okay with you guys if i change it?**


	16. Flshbck: The First Steps Are The Hardest

**Music: Everything'll Be Alright by Joshua Radin, Do You Feel? by the Rocket Summer (lyrics), Broken Down by Sevendust and All I Need by Mat Kearney **

Chapter 16. Flashback: The First Steps Are the Hardest

_Do you feel  
The weight of the world singing sorrow  
Or to you is it just not real  
Cause you got your own things  
Cause we all have so many things  
And I can get past these things_

_Quil_

_15 years ago_

There are moments in your life when time literally stands still, halts its progress, just for you. With all the horrible crap going on in your life and all the unknown. Then some small thing comes under you to hold you up and sustain you. That night after I met Claire was one of those magical times.

It was probably two in the morning when I woke up, lying on the floor of Sam and Emily's spare bedroom with a small girl in my arms. The only baby girl I would love. The only person in this world who meant everything to me.

As I laid her gently down into the second hand crib that Emily had acquired for her stay, I felt myself going back into shock. Claire was so tiny, so young. She was so fragile and new to the world. She didn't know anything about vampires or werewolves. She didn't know that her life had been turned around when a teenage werewolf had imprinted on her.

I could still remember that first phase, all the pain and the panic. All of a sudden being in the body of a wolf and having five voices in your head seemed pretty decent proof that you have gone mad. For the first few minutes, writhing on the ground, all these voices yelling at you and telling you horrible things, you feel like you have fallen off the face of the earth.

What brought me back though was Sam. He hadn't done it on purpose and didn't know that it would affect me so much. Sam had simply been thinking about Emily. There was this image of her in the grocery store wearing a yellow shirt picking out fruit. He couldn't help but think about how cute and beautiful she had been sniffing that mango.

I had stopped fighting struggling, listened to what they were telling me and started to accept what we were. They had been shocked, most of them had spent days sobbing in the forest, and here I was walking calmly with them without any doubt. They couldn't understand my quick acceptance and assuredness.

I think of this as where my bond with Emily started, with that mundane image of her in Sam's head. A pretty girl shopping for dinner and the mans love that followed her everywhere. It had convinced me that no matter what, the claws and the urge to rip to kill, we weren't monsters. Emily's face had put me at ease, had brought me out of the dark.

This is what I thought of as I stared at Claire, lying in a swatch of moonlight, sucking her thumb. I considered what I had become, a supernatural creature with a vendetta against those damned soul stealing leeches. I asked myself, would I go back if I could? Back to being a sixteen year old boy without a care in the world other than at some point getting laid and really drunk. Would I give it all up for something simple?

Before Claire it would have been tempting, incredibly so. Now, however, I had something greater and more beautiful than I could have had if I was still human. If not for my heritage I would never have a chance with Claire, I would always be 14 years older than her. I would never have met or fallen in love with her. I would always be that stupid, selfish boy I had once been, never deserving of Claire.

So, the answer was no. Hell no. Not in a million years would I give Claire up for something that made a little more sense, was more rational. It was a decision that had been made for me, fates funny little tricks, but it was huge to me.

Emily was waiting for me in the living room, a beer in her hand and a frown on her face. Without hesitation I sat down across from her on the couch. I picked up the beer she had left on the table for me and took a swig. Emily never condoned drinking, so she must be really upset if she thought alcohol was needed.

"You're mad." I stated simply and quietly. I was pretty calm for being so scared.

She bit the second knuckle on her right index finger and looked away. I had never seen Emily really mad or worked up, I had no idea what to expect. Her eyes when they came back to mine were frigid and hard. "Yes."

A shiver went up my spine at that single menacing word. I squirmed in my seat and glanced around the dark, empty room. "Where's Sam?"

"I told him to stay with Jared tonight, that I'd be the one to deal with you." Emily sounded so strong and confident as she said that, that I actually feared she might be able to kick my ass.

"Deal with me?" I decided to play dumb.

She just glared at me and shook her head like she just couldn't take it anymore. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

I frowned and my eyebrows pulled together. I tried to keep the shaking and burning down. "I think I know very well what is happening." I tried to say this as slowly and flatly as possible.

Emily's eyes were closed as if she couldn't look at me. "You say that now, but do you have any idea what it's like to be on the other end. You can't say you know what it's like to feel it without all the instincts and answers to back it up. We have it even harder Quil, us women, who have to love _dogs_."

Did she just say that? Called what we were animals, beasts? I had never known she thought like that, so heartless and distant. "Is this about me and Claire or is this about you?"

"What?" she hissed.

"I am sorry that things for you are extra hard and fucked up, but that isn't me and that isn't Claire. I would appreciate if you treat me like a human being, which I am. I have a soul and purpose. Don't you make me out to be a base creature just because of my blood, my destiny. I have just as much right to love and be loved as any man."

Emily cried silent, numb tears as she looked right through me. I knew she was reliving that day when she had seen the monster in Sam's eyes for the first time. The image of his uncontrollable shaking and growling, then the phase, must be one of her most terrifying memories. Then claws, all she saw was claws, as they ripped open her skin from hair line to finger tips.

For all the time I had known Emily she had been warm and motherly to us. I guess we had just never stopped to think how hard this all was on her. Not only did she have to let Sam go off and hunt down deadly vampires but she had to deal with the pain, the scars of their love. The sacrifices she herself had to make, her life, her beauty, her soul; all to be with the wolf-man she loved.

"I know." She said to herself. "I know."

"Emily?" I asked hoping to bring her back to the present.

Her body tensed as she focused on my face. She took a shuddering breath and continued. "Have you any idea what your going to do?"

I didn't stop to think of analyze. "Be with her."

"Yes," she sighed. "But how."

"However she needs me."

"It's more complicated than that. For one she doesn't live here, she lives on the reservation in Makah. Secondly her parents don't know." She stopped abruptly there.

"Do they know anything?" I asked worriedly.

Emily bit her lip and whispered, "They know about Sam and the pack. My sister knows about imprinting but her husband doesn't. He's not very supportive, didn't want to leave Claire here in the first place, but I convinced him she would be perfectly safe."

We both were silent, thinking, for a minute. "How do you think they'll take it?" I asked.

"They only know because I ended up in the hospital. They only really know the bad things. I can't tell you how they will react but I can tell you it won't be pretty."

Instinctively my mind back tracked and tried to come up with a new plan, one where I was allowed to see Claire and be in her life. If that meant denying the wolf inside me then so be it.

"No, Quil." Emily said already guessing what made me so pensive. "They have to know. _I _won't allow you to be with her without her parent's permission. I will keep her from you if it's not their wish. It's the only right thing to do."

I jumped to my feet and headed for the door, too sick to my stomach to continue this conversation. Where it was heading. "I'll be back at dawn." I called over my shoulder as I almost ripped the door off its hinges.

"Quil, wait!" I reluctantly turned around to see her pitying gaze. "They called when you…were with Claire. They are coming back early, tomorrow to be exact. I plan, we plan on telling them then. They need to know, I refuse to lie to them."

I was shutting down in the face of this nightmare; I had to leave so I could run free, loose myself for just a couple seconds. I whispered, my back turned to her, "Just try okay. For me. I don't think I can…"

I stopped and slammed the door shut behind me, my clothes flying off in hopes of getting lost in some pain. Mind numbing pain.

_That afternoon_

I was pacing in the woods behind the house straining to hear what they were saying. Paul however wasn't making it easy. He was in an unusual humorous mood and was directing his mockery at me.

"Shut. Up." I growled to his latest comment.

He smirked, happy with himself for finally getting me to crack. "What, it's true isn't it? Isn't that what they call people who fall for children, child molesters? Or pedophiles? Or—"

I had turned and quick as lightning given him a right hook square in the jaw. He hadn't been expecting it and fell like a rag doll to the ground, holding his face and rocking back and forth. Before the others could get to us to break up the fight I had picked him up off the ground and pinned him by the throat to the nearest tree.

"Don't you ever say that again, ever. Fuck, don't think it, or else I'll tear off an arm and then a leg. Next comes your eyeballs and then your other set of balls, as tiny as they may be, I'm guessing it would hurt like a bitch. That's what you are too, Paul, a whiny fucking stupid little bitch!" It took Jake, Embry and Jared to pull me off of him. I struggled against them and ran over to the other side of the clearing we were standing in.

Paul's terrified laughter made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "That's what you think!" he said from his place on the ground, spitting out bloody saliva. "But I'm not the one getting all worked up over a toddler."

I didn't move, just stared at the house through the trees. I heard one of them—Jared—help him to his feet. He didn't come any closer but his voice traveled crystal clear to my ears. "I propose a bet, because Quil here likes bets so much. How long will it take for him to ruin both of their lives? Before he hurts her or even kills her? Before she sees him for the obsessive bastard he is? Before he breaks down—"

"Shut the hell up, Paul." Jake said from the side lines.

"I say two weeks." Paul said to the group. "Any takers?"

No one took the bet. No one said a word. No one moved. How I kept my shape I'll never know.

"Jared? What do you say?" Paul sneered. "A month? Two?"

Jared's wild eyed look willed him to stop and turned to me in fear. None of it mattered though; I was making my way out of the forest toward the house. I needed to see her, just one time, before our fates were decided.

I walked around to where the forest was closest to touching the house and from there ran low and hard to the porch. I dropped on all fours and climbed up the steps. I slinked to below the north facing window that opened up to the living room.

Their voices were so quiet that I snuck a look, lifting myself just enough to see their heads. Facing me were Claire's parents, a handsome couple in their late twenties. They were sitting there stock still listening horrified to what Sam was saying. I stopped breathing when I got higher and saw Claire on the ground playing with an assortment of toys. Suddenly she stopped and turned to the window I was looking out of. She couldn't see me could she?

"NO!" I cracked my head on the windshield as I ducked. Not before I had seen Claire's father jump to his feet and roar to the heavens, though. "I will not allow that boy near her! I won't!"

"Andrew—" A women's voice cried, Claire's mother.

"No! You can tell that bastard, what's his name, to go hit on another baby. Sick creep, he's not going to take my little girl, he won't!" For being so quiet before they were all yelling at each other now.

"Please, Andrew, Sarah," Emily pleaded. "It's not like that, he doesn't want to take her away or harm her in anyway. He just…Sarah, please?"

"Claire, come on." Sarah said, her voice wobbling on the edge of tears. "I'm so sorry Emily, but, it we just…We have to protect Claire and this boy sounds like a threat."

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!!" I looked again to see Sam restraining Andrew, who was trying to get to the door. It wasn't a fair fight though; Sam was three times as big and half a foot taller.

"Please, Andy!" Sam tried to reason. "Just listen to us. You can't just brush this under the rug. Quil needs Claire, it's not fair—"

"You know what's not fair?" seethed the smaller man. "Having to tear your two year old away from her relations because she has a werewolf obsessed with her. Stalking her no doubt, he's probably outside right now. He doesn't _need _her, what he _needs _is to be neutered, or better yet, let down!"

Sam was so shocked that Andrew got out of his grip. He bounded down the steps and fought his way into the car and started it. I pressed my spine against the siding, unwilling to be spotted by her father.

"NO!" I gasped at the new little voice added to the mix, the machete through the gut. In panic I twisted to look back in and saw Claire struggling like a fish to get out of Sarah's arms. The animal like cries ripping from her lips chilled my blood.

Emily came back into the living room with Claire's bag over her shoulder and her teddy bear in her hand. Teddy was offered and her blanket but nothing helped. "Please, Claire," Emily soothed with no avail. "It's okay, please, you have to go with Mommy and Daddy. You have to go home."

"No! No! No!" she shrieked. Her mom dropped her she was struggling so much and when she hit the floor she started to cry out in pain. The edge of the window sill turned to splinters in my hands.

Her mom took the opportunity to snatch her up and run. I crawled to look past the side of the house to see her mother's hair streaming in the wind and Claire's tear stained face over her shoulder. Her eyes widened and hiccupping ceased at the sight of me. Then a new round of hysterics was brought on.

Somehow Sarah had gotten the car door shut without catching one of Claire's thrashing limbs. Claire was standing on Sarah's legs and pressing herself to the window, trying to find me again. She slapped her little hands on the window and screamed shrilly.

I managed to stay where I was until the car turned the corner, once it was gone though my heart flat lined and my mind went blank. My body took over and I vaulted the porch railing and set out at a sprint into the woods. I weaved my way between the trees at the edge of the road as I gained quickly on the car. Soon I was running alongside it pushing my muscles and lungs to the breaking point. Adrenaline pooled my veins.

I couldn't keep up though, no matter how hard I pushed myself. Claire had finally seen me, her wet face pressed to the window looking just as defeated as I felt. Her mouth was moving, she was muttering something. My name? Wait, no she doesn't know my name.

This is what made me quit, strangely enough. The idea that this fight was useless if she didn't even know my name. I slowed down and watched the car speed by and then turn off onto the highway. This was it, all over before it even began. I would never see her again. I felt like I was going to be sick.

I tasted bile in my mouth and my stomach muscles clenched tightly. I fell to my hands and knees and threw up. As I heaved painfully tears came to my eyes and overflowed. New ones came to replace them, burning my skin. I choked on vomit and sobs. It was stuck, I couldn't breathe I couldn't think.

I had emptied my stomach within moments and soon it was just dry heaves. Helpless muscles movements that I couldn't stop. When they finally ceased I rolled onto my back, avoiding my mess, and shut my eyes to the sleet that was falling from the sky.

I don't know how long I had lain there, but what felt hours later I felt a bare foot nudge my side. I squinted through the icy rain to see Paul standing over me. The disgust on his face sent my stomach rolling again.

"Here, you proved us all wrong. Only took you one day to turn everything to shit." He dropped something on my chest. I brought it up to my face, a fifty dollar bill. The money I had lost on the bet about Jake. His parting words were, "Keep the change."

_One week later_

Eventually they stopped calling, stopped trying to get me to leave my room or eat anything. What did it matter anymore? It didn't, none of it mattered. Nothing mattered. Not anymore. Nothing nothing nothing nothing…

My grandfather knocked on my bedroom door for the umpteenth time that day. I just squeezed my eyes shut and tried to picture her face, her smile, her voice. "Quil?" he asked. "Emily here is on the phone and she's real worried about you."

I mumbled incoherently into the pillow and burrowed deeper under the covers.

"Quil?" he opened the door and stepped in.

"Go away." I groaned.

"Quil? Emily said you have to talk to her, that it's about Claire—"

"What?" I sat up and squinted against the light coming through the window. "Is something wrong? Is she okay?"

He looked surprised and stuttered, "No, I mean I don't know, she didn't say—"

I held out my hand out and he handed me the phone. "Emily? What is it, what's wrong?"

"Quil? Is that really you? How are you? Wait, oh Claire, don't worry she's fine. She's right here—"

With that I was up out of bed and running out to my truck. I swung it into reverse and stepped on the gas once I hit the pavement. One handed I searched the glove box and came up with my neglected cell phone, thankfully still somewhat charged.

I punched in her number and when she answered I asked, "What is she doing there? What happened?"

"Quil, honestly, don't just hang up like that! Now listen, she's here because they couldn't take it anymore. Claire was having fits and refusing to eat or sleep. She was a lot like you actually, and they couldn't stand to see her like that so they brought her for a visit. They're going to give it a try, Quil, give you a chance."

"Oh, thank God." I couldn't believe it. Had I ever been happier?

My first sight as I pulled up the driveway was Claire walking as fast as her short legs could take her. I ripped open the door, jumped down and gathered her to me, holding on so tight I guessed she couldn't even breathe. Unwillingly I loosened my hold.

But it was okay, all was good. It was really happening; my greatest wish was coming true. I almost didn't believe it. I felt whole again or like my soul was finally connected to my body.

I saw Emily walking towards us and I couldn't help the tears that streamed down my face. "Thank you."

She nodded, too overcome by her own emotions to say anything. She reached forward to touch Claire's hair, who, by the wetness in the shoulder of my t-shirt was crying too.

We all stood there, weeping, unable to quell the happiness this moment drowned us with. It was the one of the best days of my life, if not the best.

**I hope you guys love this chapter as much as I do, along with the new title. I felt the question "Why?" was always being asked, and that it was kind of the point of this story. Why did Quil leave? Why do things happen like they do? Why am i rambling? Review!**


	17. The Race Begins

This chapter is dedicated to **Amelia Bedelia**for being the most amazing and persistent of reviewers. Thanks for all _15 _reviews and for inspiring me to get back to writing this! Can't wait to hear what you have to say…

**Songs: Sun Giant by Fleet Foxes, Figured Me Out by Jamie Lidell, Burning Bright by Shinedown (lyrics) **

Chapter 17. The Race Begins

_There's nothing ever wrong but nothing's ever right  
Such a cruel contradiction  
I know I cross the lines it's not easy to define  
I'm born to indecision  
There's always something new some path I'm supposed to choose  
With no particular rhyme or reason_

I didn't sleep at all that night. And not just because I was out until 2 am patrolling. No, I didn't sleep that night, because I had too much to think about.

It's hard to describe how I felt that next day because there wasn't a word that could fully encompass my emotions. I was happy, of course, don't get me wrong. Ecstatic was the strongest emotion represented.

But…

How could I be sure of anything anymore? Here was Claire, accepting and selfless Claire, letting go of her doubts and concerns because it was what _I _wanted. I felt like I was damaging her in someway because I was keeping what was rightfully hers too close to share.

Memories.

Knowledge.

Love.

Family.

Do you think all this was my fault? Yes, no, maybe so? Well, too bad, because it doesn't matter. What happened happened and it hurts like hell for Claire to be on the receiving end of all of it.

And I couldn't stop it. Like blood in my hands, it all kept slipping through my fingers.

…Drip…

…Drip…

…Drip…

* * *

"Why, hello, Pessimistic Paulie!" Jake said from the kitchen door way.

I didn't even lift my head from where I was staring at my now soggy cereal. I ran my hand over my hair and took a calming breath. The sound of Jake devouring an apple was the only sound in the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, without a trace of humor.

I shrugged and sighed, got up and rinsed up my bowl. "Just, I don't know, out of it."

"How'd it go last night?" he inquired nonchalantly.

"You saw." I said referring to the run last night and how he had been inside my head as I replayed it over and over again.

"Yeah, but it all kind of happened really fast."

"I suppose," I chewed the inside of my cheek in speculation. "I guess it just happened, like out of nowhere. You know how you worry about things and expect the worse? Well, with Claire it never seems to happen like that."

"She's a great girl, Quil. You should remember that."

"I will, I promise." I whispered sincerely.

"What's the problem then?"

"Guilt."

"Ahhh, I see. You want to make Claire happy but what she thinks will make her happy is what you know will kill her. So, you take the easy way and decide to ignore all this shit between you two. Genius, Quil, really. Real messed up and retarded."

"Geez, thanks, Jacob. I just feel so much better."

"What can I say, I'm a real Dr. Feel Good."

"Piss off, loser."

"You better get out of my range then, so about thirty feet. You better move quick I'm whipping it out any second now. _Schwing! Auh-de auh-de auh-de! UHHH!"_

"Sweet Jesus cut it out!" When Jacob starts doing _Wayne's World_ impressions it's almost impossible to stop him.

"How may I help you then?" His hands were folded and his eyes looking upward with a peaceful expression on his face. He was the picture of an angel, the bastard.

"I need to get out of this funk before I pick her up."

"Well," Jake said stepping out of the room. "I got just the thing for you."

A CD case flew through the doorway and I caught it reflexively. I turned it over and read the title: **The High Off Magic Marker/Fruity Umbrella Drink Mix**.

By the time I was pulling into Claire's driveway I was tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the electric songs on Jake's playlist. He sure was a pain in the ass, but he knew how to have a good time.

Within seconds Claire was running down the walk towards the truck. _Breathe_, I told myself, _Just breathe and act like yourself and for god's sake don't you dare blush!_ I will never get used to the sight of Claire. Never. Especially if she starts wearing more skirts like she is now.

I was starting to get used to her style and way of carrying herself. She wore a navy cotton skirt that hit just above her knee showing off her impossibly long, smooth legs. The shirt she had on under her jacket was a pale yellow V-neck t-shirt with a vibrant and bold painted flower design. She remained casual however with striped orange, white and brown slip-on sneakers and her hair down.

For a second I found myself thinking solely of her hair. It was strange I suppose to go on a tangent about her hair, but I had been through lots of ups and downs with her concerning her hair. She got her first hair cut six months after I imprinted on her and I can still remember having her struggling in my arms as we brought her into the hair salon. The hair dresser however calmed her down by talking to her about Rugrats, her favorite cartoon. When she was three and a half she got gum stuck in her hair and cried for a week when she was forced to get all of her baby curls cut off. This was when she vowed to never cut her hair ever again. So, now I was looking at Claire's hair, which barely grazed her shoulders. I couldn't help but think, when and why did she finally decide to cut her hair again?

She threw open the side door with a huge grin on her face and climbed inside. She paused pulling her seat belt on and started laughing.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," she said shaking her head. "I just never pegged you as the type to listen to Belle and Sebastian, and 'I'm a Cuckoo' is my favorite."

I smiled, thanking God for Jake's eccentric taste in music.

Claire hummed along at first but then started singing enthusiastically.

_Jesus told me, go after every coin like it was the last in  
the world  
And protect the wayward child  
But I'm a little lost sheep  
I need my Bo Peep  
I know I need My Shepherd here tonight  
_

"Come on, Quil! Let loose!" she sang out.

It was infectious, this music. You couldn't help but grin. I sang the next verse with her.

_Breaking off is misery  
I see a wilderness for you and me  
Punctuated by philosophy  
And a wondering how things could've been_

She motioned for me to take the next verse. I was fumbling and bumbling over the unknown words and I shook my head no. She punched me in the shoulder so I flew solo for the next verse and the irony of the words was not lost on me._  
I'd like to see you  
But really I should stay away  
And let you settle down  
I've got no claims to your crown  
I was the boss of you  
And I loved you  
You know I loved you  
It's all over now_

The rest of the song played out as I felt her eyes on me, searching somehow, for the reason for my sudden change in mood. She turned off the music and sat back in her seat, quiet as a mouse.

"What's wrong?" I asked anxiously, unaware that my mood had been so permeable.

"Nothing, you just sing like a dying horse." She sniped.

"Come on, Claire, get serious here."

She huffed and sat up straighter to face me. She pointed a finger in my face accusingly. "Is this the way it's going to be?"

"Whoa," I said holding up a hand. "Put that thing away before someone gets hurt."

"Come on, Quil, get serious here." She mocked, with a reluctantly amused edge to her voice.

"Fine. What do you mean?" I was being guarded and I knew it.

"Like this!" Claire said with frustration. "We hit this major break through last night and I'm left thinking this is a new day, the _first _day of us spending real time together. But, no, you're shutting down on me, again!"

"I'm sorry," I murmured shaking my head. "I was just thinking about stuff."

She raised an eyebrow threateningly. "Does this stuff go by the name of 'Claire'?"

"Yes." I said afraid.

"Ha!" she said impassioned. "See? My point, exactly. You're being all shifty eyed and walled up. If you can't at least act like this is where you want to be then that just shows your unwillingness to communicate."

"Well, I'm sorry, Dr. Phil." I said with mock solemnity. "It seems my childhood was not filled with enough hugs and displays of affection, so now the channels of communication between me and the people around me are constantly being shut off as I can't get physically close to anyone without the feeling like I need to run away and hide for fear of being over come by unknown emotions I was never taught to handle."

Claire's wide brown eyes got bigger and bigger as my sentence became mile long. For a second I thought she might hit me again, which was appealing since she couldn't hurt me and let's admit Claire angry is entirely too funny. She surprised me though.

She rose to her full height in her seat and used one hand to hold a finger over her mouth and the other to pull hair back tightly exposing her forehead. "Well, I'm going be honest with you." She began in a ridiculous southern accent. "I have never, not in the thirty years I've been a therapist, seen anyone with such poor people skills. And you know what; I'm up for the challenge. Because if you don't get your act back together, son, you're going to find yourself alone and unhappy with an imaginary rabbit called Jack as a companion. First off, I'm gonna get you free membership at Gold's Gym which will set you on the right track for emotional healing."

She paused, still in character, as I sat there in stunned silence.

"We'll be back after this short commercial break to discuss further this young mans emotional heartache."

Oh. My. God. I was swerving uncontrollably down the road and was forced to pull over I was laughing so hard. Claire was right along with me and had taken away her 'mustache' and 'baldness' as we almost struck the curb. I. Couldn't. Breathe. I was slapping the steering wheel in my hysterics and almost flipped the car over when I mistakenly looked over at Claire and she put her 'mustache' back on. I don't think I had ever laughed so hard in my life.

"You're…amazing…Claire." I managed to say between gasps.

She had her head in her hands as she tried to contain herself and it wasn't working. She kept stomping the car floor and banging her head against the head rest. Her laugh was so cute and intoxicating, musical but always changing tune.

I was somehow able to stop first and just marveled for a moment at our situation. How we could go from singing to arguing to mocking in seconds flat. I had never had that with anyone before, where I could just say whatever I felt like saying when I felt like saying it. Nothing was too strange or ridiculous or depressing to talk about with her.

_I must really love her_, I thought to myself. I had loved her for fifteen years, but that was the product of imprinting. I wouldn't say that love is forced when you imprint, because that's not the case, but it simply becomes who you are without any prior thought or action on your part. As a child Claire had been my Northern Star in all things, my guiding light, my little angel. Now, however, I found myself doing a 180 in our relationship.

Why? Because although I had always _loved_ her, now I was falling _in love_ with her.

Talk about an epiphany.

"You should have seen your face, Quil." Claire laughed. "I thought you were going to have a stroke."

"I had no idea you even knew who Dr. Phil was." I admitted.

"Oh, god, yes. My mom has all these tape recordings of the show from when I was little. When I first found them four years ago I thought they were the funniest things I had ever seen and became obsessed with him."

Claire finally let her hands down to look at me and I couldn't resist. I reached up a hand and cupped her flushed cheek with my palm. She was so warm at that moment, so buzzing with excitement, that her face felt almost as warm as my hand. The ache in my chest relieved for a moment as I touched her. So much pain, so much to gain.

She dropped her eyes, embarrassed, and turned her face out of my hand. My fingers just hung there, grasping at air. Why was it so strange for her? Why was it so natural for me? I was at a loss as to how to make her more comfortable while still relieving the pain of our separation before I pass out.

The short rest of the drive to the school was silent and uneventful, until…

About three blocks from the high school Claire started shifting in her seat. She spread her legs so she could reach her bag that had slipped under the seat. Maybe it was because she was wearing a skirt or maybe the heat was creating so much air circulation. All I know is that all of a sudden I could smell it….the blood.

No she didn't have a cut, and no it wasn't internal bleeding. This was dead blood, I could tell that much. This could only mean…

"Quil, are you okay? You look a little pale."

I didn't doubt it. I never thought something like this could make me so embarrassed. Just because Claire was on her period didn't mean I should freak out, right? Wrong. Somehow my mind was stalled on this one fact. Claire was….every month she…she could get…shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

What was wrong with me? Claire was a woman, big deal. Right? I mean this shouldn't make me feel so…nauseous, should it? Sure, she wasn't a little girl anymore, but come on; it shouldn't affect me so much. Right?

I drove the next few blocks in a daze. Obviously I need professional help. I parked messily near the curb in front of the high school. Deep breath. All right, now look at her…

"Quil?" Claire was wrenching my fingers from the death grip on the wheel. I looked down at her small light brown hands and up into milk chocolate eyes. She looked very concerned and her sweet mouth was tight. _She must really care about me_, I thought giddily.

"Oh, I'm fine." I said like it was nothing and smirked proudly. I must be doing something right to get that reaction out of her.

"O-kay…" she was looking at me like I really should be admitted.

"Hey!" I started as she began to climb out. I held her back by her arm and brought her closer to me with deliberate slowness. Her breath wafted across my face in a small puff. Did she ever smell good, like citrus and honey. So fresh and sweet and addicting. "Can't wait to see you later when I pick you up. And then again tonight at the movie."

I let go even though I didn't want to. She nodded and slipped out clumsily. I chuckled as I watched her stumble on the grass. Then a large gust of wind came and kicked up her skirt. I swear it was straight out of a movie as she used her hands to try and keep it down.

I couldn't resist and I rolled down the passenger side window and leaned across the seat. "Hey, Marilyn! Having a wardrobe malfunction?"

She turned on me, enraged. She looked like she was contemplating giving me the finger and punching me in face. Like I might have said before, I'm all for the supposed physical violence. Always a surprise, she merely stuck her tongue out at me. "Shut up, Peeping Tom. For your information I had to dress up today."

"Oh, really?" Could this morning be anymore strange?

"Why, yes. The Student Council Elections are today and since I am current Secretary I have to oversee it. There, I was _made _to wear this skirt. Shut up!" she screamed as I merely laughed my ass off at her pathetic little story. "Fine, believe whatever you want!"

She tried to stomp away but I stopped her and she turned, huffing, back to me. "I believe I am a huge fan of that skirt. I may have to start of some sort of fan club; I'm that enthusiastic about you in that skirt."

She did her frown/pout but then gave up and surprised me yet again. She blew me a kiss and ran to get inside and out of the wind. I caught it and shifted into drive with the goofiest grin on my face possible.

* * *

The rest of my morning and part of the afternoon was spent at Jake's auto shop. I had never been inside before and I was surprised to find out that it was really like any other auto shop. Since Jake was one of the co-owners I had expected the lifts to be painted orange and the mechanic's uniforms to be lime green. Or better yet, have Comedy Central playing in the waiting rooms, each customer get a free drunken lap dance and each car get a complimentary whoopee cushion inserted in the seat.

Unfortunately, everything was much more boring than that. It was just a usual shop that did oil changes, tune ups, tire replacements and small repairs. Something that was cool, however, was that the bulk of Jakes income was taking decrepit classic cars from the 70's and 80's and fixing them up to brand new condition for mounds of cash. In fact, according to him, he was pretty well-known for it in the area and always had great money flow.

The entire pack worked there for the most part and it was fun to just hang out with everyone again. The day was spent talking cars and families and tribe news. Jared and Sam mostly talked about their wives and kids while Seth and Colin would not shut-up about the limited edition Mazda MX-5 Miata they were supping up to then enter into a car show. Embry was quite except when filling me in on the tribe and community business.

Around 2:00 I finally decided to drop the bomb on Jake. I entered the break room to find Jake, Seth and Colin watching a wrestling match on the television.

"Hey, guys, what's up?"

They waved their hands at me in a 'shut up, I'm fine, let me watch this match' kind of way. This was going to be so easy.

"So, Jake, what do you say to doin' something fun tonight?"

"Huh, what?" he turned to me in annoyance. At that moment a loud boom came from the T.V and thundering applause.

"Oh, shit, did you see that?" hooted Seth.

"Look he can't even stand up!" yelped Colin.

"Aww, come on!" Jake cried. He turned to me like a petulant child. "What-ev-er, Quil."

"All right," I muttered like I was bored. "I'll have Claire tell Maisy that you'll be coming to the movie." And I walked out to sound of Jakes shocked choking and Seth exclaiming over how wrestling was the real deal and that it was staged is a myth. I was very satisfied with myself and excited to see Claire and for the night to begin.

* * *

"Ha ha ha! Oh my god!" Jake hollered. "You got in an accident!"

I scowled. Could my day have gone downhill faster? First, I get a call from Claire telling me that she's going over to Maisy's house after school and that she doesn't need a ride. Then, as I'm exiting the school parking lot, depressed as it is, some idiot backs out of a space without looking and puts a serious dent in the passenger side door. The icing on the cake was when I finally got home Jake was actually _excited _for his chance to 'tame the shrew' as he put it.

"Just get in; we're going to be late." I growled bitterly.

"Did you hit a deer or something?" No. Response. "Oh, wait, no! A dear hit _you_."

The stupidity of that last statement will go down in history.

"No, Jake." Exasperated. Yes, that's how I felt. "Some mentally incompetent jack ass backed right into me in the goddamn parking lot. I would appreciate it if you would let. It. Go."

"It's okay, Quil-y," he said soothingly. "The beautiful Maisy with soothe your troubles. Oh, there isn't a woman like her! The broom, the wart, the voice like nails on a chalkboard. Her personality is like eating glass and her laugh will make your ears bleed. The caustic like witch will make you feel a foot high and her red eyes will burn holes into your retinas."

"Sounds like a real catch." I muttered, getting my good humor back

By the time we got to the theater Jake had gone into the things he would rather do that spend an evening with The Shrew. He had started out with getting his pubic hair trimmed with hedge clippers…you can imagine where it had gone from there.

"I would rather…" Jake continued with his little game while we bought our tickets. "have a colonoscopy performed by an 80 year old arthritic Alzheimer's patient _in the dark_ than go to this with The Shrew."

I didn't pay attention beyond that jewel because we had now entered the lobby where they sold concessions and was searching furiously for Claire. I found her leaning against the wall near the bathrooms, nodding and listening to a small girl with shoulder length blonde hair. The girl wore a pink sweater and a white mini skirt with tennis shoes. She looked like an Anna Kournikova clone. I could see why Jake didn't like Maisy, she looked a little high strung and prissy.

Claire's face lit up when she saw me and waved us over excitedly. I grinned and strode over there as the weight of the world slowly lifted off my shoulders the closer I got. She straightened and watched Maisy carefully as she spotted who was coming her way. The smaller girls face scrunched like she had been forced to suck on a lemon when she saw Jake coming over. She shot daggers with her eyes at Claire, who was looking quite torn.

"Well, well, _well_!" Maisy hissed. "If it isn't The Clown. What are _you_ doing here?"

Jake made an offended noise and tried to hide behind me. He stuck his head from behind my shoulder to spit, "I could say the same about you _Mildred Daisy_!"

Her face twisted in outrage. "You!" she said pointing to Claire. "You planned this didn't you? Why, I ask you, why?"

Claire shook her head and opened her mouth but nothing came out. I decided to save her from The Shrew. "Well," I cleared my throat to get her attention. She turned on me with venom in her eyes. "It seems to be just a coincidence; I mean I didn't know you guys were going to be here. Did you, Claire?"

She shook her head sharply at Maisy hopefully. Maisy's soul blackening glare shifted between the three of us before turning evil and malicious. "Hhmm," she murmured like she knew something we didn't. "Why, Claire Bear, do they know why we're here?"

"Uh," Claire stalled shooting my face furtive little looks. "To see a movie?"

Maisy laughed and we all cringed at the unnatural sound. "No, silly, the real reason."

Claire looked like a dear caught in the head lights and sighed heavily when she met my confused gaze. "Quil, we're here with –"

"Sorry, you guys, the line in there was really long." A quiet male voice called from behind me. I turned to find a tall (by normal standards) brown haired boy around Claire's age approaching us. His messy hair fell in his electric blue eyes in a way that was only achieved through an hour in front of the mirror and about a pound of hair gel. He brushed past me to stand next to Claire, who looked like she wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

I recognized him immediately. He was the tool who put the dent in my car in the school parking lot. I disliked him immensely already.

Claire's voice seemed to be coming from far away. "Quil this is Jason." Then the bastard had the audacity to put his hand on her elbow.

I narrowed me eyes. Oh, hell no.

**Hey, guys I'm back! Sorry if this chapter was a little all over the place, originally I hadn't planned on this QPOV, I had forgotten that Flashbacks don't count. So, anyways, since it's summer there will be actual updates (gasp!). Oh and wish me luck, I'm having all of my wisdom teeth removed in less than three hours, so I might not update until Friday or Saturday. **

**Tell me what you think, I'm dying to know! **


	18. Inappropriate Laughs On The House

Previously on **The Reason Why** …

_I recognized him immediately. He was the tool who put the dent in my car in the school parking lot. I disliked him immensely already._

_Claire's voice seemed to be coming from far away. "Quil this is Jason." Then the bastard had the audacity to put his hand on her elbow._

_I narrowed me eyes. Oh, hell no._

**Songs: Let's Dance to the Joy Division by The Wombats, Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand, Still Alright by Adam Merrin (Jake's song), Life Is A Perception Of Your Own Reality by Chiodos**

Chapter 18. Inappropriate Laughs On the House

I didn't know.

This is my only excuse for why this is happening. All day Maisy had been babbling about Jason this and Jason that, but I was too distracted by my ride to school and the impending movie set up. Yes, I know, pathetic. She must have hinted at it a million times but I hadn't caught on. Even when she insisted on going to her house before the movie to get ready all I could think about was Quil.

So now here we are, five incredibly uncomfortable, nervous and infuriated (on Quil and Jakes part) people standing like idiots in the lobby of a movie theater.

The expression on Quil's face was that of animalistic fury. I had a mixed reaction to this. On one hand I was kind of fearful for Jason's life as he seemed to be on the receiving end of this rage. On the other I felt sort of giddy and excited that Quil would be so angry over another guy being on a date with me.

"Yeah," Quil hissed. Whoa, I had no idea he could get so worked up. "We've met."

The stunned silence that followed was short lived. "Huh?" muttered Jason. For the first time since Quil and Jake arrived I took time to look at Jason. Let's get this out of the way first; I used to think Jason was the epitome of the hot guy. _Used to_ being the key phrase. So I felt kind of ashamed to see him like this. He looked utterly clueless and stupefied. I'm guessing he didn't expect our…whatever this is to be ambushed by some mammoth older guys, one of whom looked like he wanted to decapitate him.

"What's goin' on here?" Jason said forcing a smile. That he was trying to be cute was not endearing as it had once been; now it was downright annoying.

"Well," I started to explain. Instinctively I put my hand on his arm to reassure him. "I didn't know, um, that you were coming with us. So, I invited some people. This is Jake, he's a really close friend of the family. And this is Quil, he is…" What to call him, what to call him? Not a boyfriend, not a friend, not family (eww). "New in town." Ahhh, sigh, truthful and unrevealing.

I thought I felt some searing heat on my hand that was on Jason's arm and looked up to see Quil glaring heatedly at our contact. I immediately dropped my hand. I was embarrassed by the entire situation. Embarrassed for Jason, embarrassed for myself, embarrassed for Quil. But how to fix it? I couldn't, all I could do was ride it out.

"_Jason_ ," Quil literally spat out. His arms were now crossed and in between words he would grind his teeth loudly. "Happened to back into and _damage_ my vehicle this afternoon."

"Really?" I turned to Jason fearfully. Say no, say no and live.

"Well," he glanced at the floor fearfully. "Yeah, I guess if you were the one driving the black truck then I was one who dented your passenger side door." The boy has no self-preservation skills, I swear.

"You did not _dent _ the door, you _crushed _ it!" Quil's fists were clenching as if he were preparing to inflict damage.

Then Jason, Suicidal Jason, laughed. Yes, laughed like Quil's temper was a joke. "I'm sorry, man. But, hey, if it's still attached and you know still serves it's purpose then it's not _ruined _ or anything." The entire time I was shaking my head at him, pleading with him silently to take his foot out of his mouth.

I swung around and snatched Quil's arm as I stalked away. This isn't happening, I swear, that's all I could think. Seeing as Quil's an entire foot taller than me and outweighs me by about a hundred plus pounds I didn't so much as drag Quil to the drink dispensers as I coaxed him.

"What. The. Hell." He held my shoulders with his large hot hands and leaned down to look into my face. Quil's beautiful eyes had darkened and narrowed till they were just burnt green slits. It's shameful to admit, but, him being so worked up well I found it kind of sexy. "What are you thinking, Claire? Don't tell me you're on a date with that douche bag."

"No!" I said waving my arms around wildly. I sounded guilty, but not for the reasons he thought. The glaring continued and I was just stumped for a moment.

Let's just take a step back for a minute, shall we? How long has it been since Quil came back to town? The answer: four days. How long have I _known _ Quil? The answer: unknown and indefinitely my entire life. You see the problem here? The heart versus head versus soul ordeal going on? My heart says 'Ah, _amore!' _ but my head says 'You fool you've known him four days!' while my unconscious mind seems to be screaming 'You know the answers, you know this wasn't the first time you've met, be proactive and get your happy ending!'.

Here I stand, torn in a million directions, and I realize something. What about Quil? Yeah! What the hell is going on in his pretty little head? How does he feel about me? Why is he so distant and yet in my face all the time? Why does he react to Jason this way? Was he experimented on by the government as a child and the result was giantism, a perpetual fever and that sexy ass smell of his? Why why why!!

"WHY!" Oops, did I say that out loud?

His face drops and he somehow looks repentant. "Huh, what?"

I'm the one with crossed arms now and red eyes. "Why?" I say slowly and blatantly.

His face clears as he grasps my meaning. "Oh, no, Claire not now."

It builds. This love, frustration, agony, hope, dismay, this utter fascination and consternation. "NO!" We're both surprised when I lunge forward and push him in the chest. He wasn't expecting it so the blow actually has an effect and soon I have him pinned to the wall. "You can't keep doing this to me! I'm not some play thing for you to use at your leisure. Don't treat me like a child and then act like we're official when you see me with another guy. I'm going _crazy_ over here Quil! Open your goddamn trap right now before I pry it open with my bare hands!"

"Okay, okay!" he cries wildly. "Just, please let me go."

His shirt is wrinkled where it was balled up in my fist. He just stands there looking at me with longing in his eyes, which confuses the hell out of me. Then, out of no where, is grinning like a fool. "God, you know what I love about you Claire?"

My heart stutters at his choice of words. "No…what?"

"That you refuse to take my crap and will shove it down my throat if you must to get me back to you. I love that you are so determined and gutsy, even if it's ridiculous. I can't get over how your mood swings are always at odds with mine and how that's perfectly okay. You are this open – audio book, you just sprout what your feeling like it's only meant for my ears. I love how you care when I was so afraid you wouldn't even notice me." He tenderly puts a finger to my lips to silence me when I begin to speak. He moves his thumb across my bottom lip tenderly and longingly. "And the reason why I acted out was because I was jealous. Why? Because I want us to be official, whatever the hell that even means these days."

Wow. Talk about taking a girl's breathe away. His bright eyes take in my flushed face and heavy breathing and the longing on his face magnifies. His voice as he continues is slightly less assured. "Is that…okay with you?"

"Uhhh…sure." His face contorts slightly. "No, I mean, yes. Absolutely. I am as sure about that as I am that if Jake doesn't seek psychiatric help soon he will end up being a guy named Rico's sex slave in a small padded cell in the Washington State Penitentiary."

His head tilted back with a laugh that made the entire concession stand turn and stare. "So about as sure as the sky being blue and the sun hot?"

Quil's arm wraps around me and his torrid hand finds that perfect fit on my hip. His lips pressing against my temple makes me shiver with sparkling heat. As we're walking back to the others the thought sticks in my head that we look like a couple. And how I wouldn't have it any other way.

"For all that is holy, I refuse to see that piece of _crap_ !" Jake wails. Apparently he and Maisy are really going at it.

"It's a comedy, you mentally handicapped fourth grader." Maisy quips bitterly. Her hip is popped and her hair in her face, she's in full bitch mode.

"Really politically correct, Mary Jo, I commend your teachers at the finishing academy. For the fiftieth movie in a row their making fun of midgets…that doesn't seem completely pathetic to you at all?"

She shrugged haughtily. "Not if it's funny. And don't give me that crap because I know you've been looking forward to seeing it as much as you look forward to alone time with your Internet, some lotion and your _experienced_ hands."

Me and Quil were trying desperately not to laugh, I'm not so sure it was working.

Jake smiled like he was in his element. "It's interesting to hear that me slapping the monkey gets you so hot and bothered, but the same can't be said for me. I tend to go for girls who don't find Mike Meyers the height of hilarity."

"Who died and made you Joan Rivers? God, get a life. Oh, and don't even think for a second that the thought of you and your nefarious activities gets me worked up. If it did I would drown myself in a pot of boiling water."

"And undo all the work you had done on your face, what a shame. Besides you would melt, and not because of the heat Maisy-poo."

The sickly sweet smile that corrupted her face would make a Hell's Angel crap his pants. "Why, Jakey-kins, I would never dream that you would consider, not even for one second, taking the high road and being the bigger person. I mean, why should you, when you're always the biggest person physically in the room. It's okay though, I'm sure your lacking in other areas as well as your chivalry. Like in your head…and your nether regions."

Our little group had become a free pre-movie show for the entire lobby. I don't know what people found more interesting, Maisy and Jakes caustic and most times sexual banter or that me and Quil had to use each other for support to stand up we were laughing so hard at them.

"You weren't joking." Quil whispered like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"This is one of my many joys in life." I laughed extra hard at Jakes 'slapping the monkey' reference. "Do you think they realize how many times they've mentioned Jake's package and her astounding attraction towards him?"

"No," his eyes were wide with excitement at the spectacle. "It's like a train wreck, I can't look away."

"So this has happened before?" We both started at Jason's voice behind us. We turned to see him staring horrified at the squabble. I had totally forgotten about him, and by Quil's recurring disgusted look, so had he.

"Well, yes." I said, discomforted by his presence. "Isn't it amazing?"

"Yeah," he murmured and flinched at Jake's plastic surgery quip. "Did they date at some point?"

Quil and I shared a look. Although the thought was humorous, it was also disturbing on about twenty different levels. As was most things that concerned both Jake and Maisy. "Who knows," Quil relented. "Jakes stripper name is Alejandro and Maisy does not seem to believe in the old adage 'men are friends, not food'."

Their rising voices brought us back to Jake and Maisy's argument. "Why, darling," cried Jake twice as load as necessary. "How could you forget that night, the one I dream about so often. The way you cried my name, why, I can still hear the echoes."

Maisy's face had turned tomato red at his little out burst. "What are you talking about?!"

The entire room had stopped to listen to Jake's naughty little tale. "Oh, sweet cakes, you practically forced me into your bed. We spend a _mind blowing _ night together and then you just leave without a word. I was heart broken and had to be dragged here tonight. Then I see you with _him_ !" He points an accusatory finger at a shocked Jason.

She looked like she was torn between throwing up and castrating him. "Stop it! Stop it, you idiot!"

"Me? I'm the idiot?" Jake looked so hurt I almost believed him. "I was the one who gave in to your _every _ whim and every _need _ and _fantasy_ of yours. You said I was the best you ever had and then you left me. Why, honey, why? All I ever wanted was to _please _ you?"

She stormed towards me, Quil and Jason. "I'm going, I hope you rot in hell, asshole!"

"No, darling, wait!" Jake moaned loudly. Maisy grabbed Jason's hand and ran for the theater. "Please, don't leave me again. Why, honey, why? Don't leave me without any dignity or happiness. Don't leave me without my balls. GIVE ME BACK MY BALLS!"

You could have heard a pin drop in that room. I had never had to try so hard to contain my laughter in my life. I couldn't help a small giggle from escaping my lips which only egged Quil on more and soon the only sound was our hysterics and Jake's satisfied chuckles.

Apparently, security was taking a while to get here, or the spectacle had been so grand and engrossing they had forgotten to call them. Either way, me and Quil, had to get Jake out of here before he got apprehended.

"Hey, Quil." Jake whispered conspiratorially as we pushed him into theater seven. "I thought of another one. 'I would rather be drowned in lava after getting a sex change to look like Joan Rivers than spend time with the Shrew'." He giggled as we entered the darkened hallway, apparently pleased at how evil he was.

As fate would have it, the theater was absolutely packed, and the only seats left were next to Maisy and Jason. The movie was going to start any minute so we ran up to the seats. Quil and I took the seats on the aisle, leaving Jake the only seat left next to Maisy nearer the middle of the aisle.

"Oh, come on!" Jake whined when he realized his predicament. "Do you guys hate me so much?"

"No, we just don't want to hear your griping the entire time." I scoffed.

The look on his face was priceless. It was the look of a child who had just been told Santa didn't exist, mixed with being told to go to your room.

"Buck up, private!" Quil exclaimed while slapping Jake on the shoulder. "There's an upside to this all. You can do the whole stretch and put your arm around her thing. _Then_ , now listen closely, your hand slips down and – oh! You cop a feel!"

Jakes nose scrunched up in distaste. "Like I'd ever want get to second base with that dragon."

Maisy, overhearing, put her two sense in on the subject. "What, can't handle a real woman? You only go for cyber, two dimensional WHORES! Like it matters anyway, I wouldn't let you 'cop a feel' for a million dollars, and there are lots of things I'd do for a million dollars!"

Once again we were the center of attention. I saw a lot of guys looking over Maisy curiously, almost as if they were restraining themselves from asking what she _would_ do exactly.

Looking like he was getting tired of the drama, Quil whispered, "Look Jake, get over it. Sit down, shut up and act like the grown man that you are."

"But," Jake stabbed a finger at Maisy. "But, she is so—"

"I don't care. Sit. Down."

Jake cried in utter agony, the guttural sound making the cavernous room drop into silence. Dramatically, he clutched his chest, his mouth a dark gaping hole. His knees shook violently and his breathing was labored. "_Et tu, Brute?_ "

Almost as if in slow motion, Jake fell soundlessly to the ground and tipped backwards. Because of his size, his head ended up in some ladies lap with legs all tangled up with mine and Quil's.

With amazing timing, the lights fell for the previews. You could have heard a pin drop as a commercial for Pepsi started. I myself was the picture of surprise. After a few seconds Jake jumped up, brushing himself off proudly, and in a booming voice called, "End Scene!" Then took his seat.

Jason leaned around Quil like he was a large rock, as if he didn't exist, and said to me, "Does he have Tourette's or something?"

XXXXXXX

We walked out of the theater in a daze, heading for the exit doors blindly. The chilling rush of air was met with relief. Awkwardly we all stood under the over hang and just stared at each other.

"I think it's safe to say," Jake mused. "That I was right."

"It was funny," said Quil. I stared at him in awe as he took one of my hands and put it in his jacket pocket, entwined in one of his. "But, I felt like my soul was dying…"

"I feel dumber. Does anyone else feel dumber?" I asked.

"Is it possible that we lost brain cells simply by laughing at it?" asked Jacob.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked over to see Jason shifting from foot to foot behind me. "Can I talk to you?"

"Umm," I looked to Quil for reassurance. He nodded grudgingly and released my hand. But not before kissing each of knuckles in turn and sending my heart racing. "Yeah, I guess."

I followed Jason to a trashcan about fifteen feet away. "So, what's up?"

"I feel…" He paused and looked at me searchingly. "Like a jackass."

My eyebrows came together. "Jason, you didn't do anyth—"

"No, no, that's not it. I feel like a jackass because I didn't know you were with somebody. I believed Maisy, which is always a dangerous thing."

"Oh, no, I'm not – me and Quil aren't…it's not like that."

He smiled sadly. "Come on, Claire, I'm not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other. The way he's so protective of you. You're different around him, happier somehow. I mean, you love him right?"

I stood there speechless for a minute and then turned around slowly. Quil stood under the yellow outside lights looking like some apparition of my wildest dreams. He smiled his half smile as he watched Jake and Maisy fight about the movie. Quil looked over to see me watching him and his smile grew wider, he ran his hands through his hair and watched me back.

I felt my heart sink. What am I doing? What kind of fantasy do I slip into when I'm in his presence? What am I doing? How is this all going to turn out? What am I doing? Why do I feel as if the worst has yet to come? What am I doing?

"Don't wait too long."

"What?" I asked tearing my eyes from Quil and turning around.

"Don't wait too long to tell him you love him." Jason paused and looked up at the night sky. I could see his breath in the chill air and felt so lost. "You never know what could happen. Tomorrow, in a week. When things are left unsaid…well things don't turn out so good."

XXXXXXX

"I would rather gain two hundred pounds and go on The Biggest Loser, then spend another night with the Shrew."

I spun around to glare at Jake in the back seat. "You. Suck. Hard."

He smiled at me sweetly. "Why, yes, I do."

"Could you get your mind out of the gutter for two seconds, and just listen for once? You shouldn't be provoking Maisy like that, constantly. She was really upset, Jacob. You embarrassed her horribly. Why do you do these things?"

He slouched down in his seat and stared out the window, ignoring me. Although their bickering had been hilarious tonight, it had also reaffirmed my worries. Around his family and friends and me Jake was the fun loving goofball who never got himself down on anything. I hadn't noticed until about a year ago how defensive and shut off he was towards absolutely everyone. When he and Maisy mixed it was truly explosive, but that was only because they were both such strong personalities. I wasn't so much concerned about her as I was about his attitude towards life.

"She'll probably never speak to you again." Jake snickered at the comment which only upset me more. "Yeah, it's all just so funny. Everything's just one big joke to you, right? Why is that, Jacob? Why do pull stupid crap like this 24/7 and then go all Holden Caulfield on me when I confront you about it? Why can't you be serious for just once in your life?"

"Because." He replied sullenly.

"No, really, Jake." said Quil, his eyes on the road as he drove. "I myself would be interested in the answer to that question."

Jacob threw his arms out wide in exasperation. "Oh, come on, Quil! You know."

I glanced between them. I asked Quil, "What's he talking about?"

"He," sneered Jake. "Is talking about my teenage heartbreak which has left me a dysfunctional, drunken, comedic mess. Seeing as I don't wish to revisit it, I will have my old friend give you the gist of it."

Quil sighed as if he himself wasn't looking forward to the remembering. "When Jake was fifteen—"

"Sixteen!" Jake corrected from the backseat.

"Fine, we'll start there. When Jake was sixteen he had a friend whose boyfriend had crushed her. Jake, being the nice guy he is, helped her through it. In the mean time he fell in love with her—"

"No, no, you're telling it wrong! That isn't how it really started. I knew her since I was a kid and when she moved back to Forks it seemed fated right? So even though she was really sad when the lee- asshole left her, I thought, hey here's a chance to show her how there I am for her. We were getting closer and closer and then one day the asshole's sister shows up and say's he's in trouble and needs my friend to save his ass."

By now in the story, I'm thoroughly confused. And not just because Jake keeps fumbling over his words in a frenzied hurry, but because I can see the gaps in the tale already. Purposely left out names and dates, and even the real situations.

"So she goes running back into his arms and basically abandons me. And you have to understand; this guy was way dangerous for her and made her a completely different person. Eventually though, I can't take it anymore and decide to just be her friend. A lot of shit goes down, and it ends with me telling her I love her and her marrying this other guy."

"Wow," I murmur. Even though it was confusing, I could still tell from Jakes voice how hard it was for him to tell it. "I'm sorry, Jake…but, what does that have to do with how you are now?"

"Basically I felt and acted like shit for a long time." Jacob explained, deadpan and emotionless. "And after a while of that, I was like, screw this I'm sick of being the charity case and the one everyone feels bad for. At first it was hard to act normal, but a little whiskey helped me come out of my shell. Soon I was just spewing shit all the time and acting like a jerk, because that was easier than feeling like the loser who couldn't get over being rejected."

The car was silent for a minute as we all mulled over this.

"I guess it's easier to laugh than cry. Easier to be the clown than the Holden Caulfield. Easier to feel nothing than break down from the weight of all my baggage. Easier to be everybody's friend than their ball and chain. So yeah, my life's a comedy. That's a lot better than the tragedy it used to be."

Quil pulled smoothly into my driveway and cut off the engine. I got out of the car and pulled open the back door. Jake was stiff in my arms at first but hugged me back comfortably after a second. I tried to convey my sympathy and love with that touch and I think he got it.

"Sorry I made Maisy cry." He whispered.

"Somebody needs to do it." I couldn't help but giggle. I shut the door and started to walk away when Quil called me back. I walked around the car to his side stood beside him.

"Will I see you this weekend?" He asked, and my skin crawled at the masked desperation.

"I don't think so. I've got a lot of homework and Maisy is making me sleepover at her house tomorrow night as payment." I couldn't meet his eyes.

"Okay," he stalled. "Well, call me, alright?"

"Yeah." I barely whispered. I jogged up the front walk to the door, feeling their gazes on my back the entire time. With shaking fingers I opened the door and shut it behind me soundly. I leaned my back against as I willed my heart rate to return to normal. In exhaustion I slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor with my head between my knees and my fingers knotted in my hair.

I fought by the tears feeling so pathetic and so lost. Jake's story had only made my situation the more terrifying. Things felt like a train wreck with Quil. Like any minute it was all going to blow up. What then? He was being so reserved and kept me at arms length. When I wasn't around him I was so miserable, a double misery. One he wasn't there two I couldn't find my footing anymore.

Nobody knew I felt this way. Nobody knew how close I felt to pulling my hair out and bursting into tears all the time. All because of this not knowing and all the pain waiting in the wings, waiting to attack at the most inopportune time.

What am I doing?

* * *

AN: There are few people in this world I hate, in fact the only one that comes to mind is William Coolidge. Why? Because he was the scientist who invented the X-ray which led to the dentist finding my wisdom teeth, which led to getting them removed, which led to dry sockets, which led to the worst weeks of my life.

Sorry for the wait, guys. And sorry if some of you found it inappropriate (hence the title of the chap), but that's how Jake's and mine twisted sense of humor works.

Can't wait to hear what you have to say, please review and let me know how you liked it!


	19. Action

**Songs: Jesus Christ by Brand New, Thieving by Lovedrug (lyrics), Lost by Anouk. ** _**(seriously check these songs out, especially the last two. Sooo beautiful)** _

Chapter 19. Action

_A girl, a boy, a hell, like thieves we are  
All in love with stolen hearts  
And we all fall down and fall apart for love_

My first weekend back home dragged. Saturday morning I woke up thinking I was back in my old apartment, only to find Jake in the kitchen slurping down Cheerios. That was the mood for the entire weekend mostly, disorientation and shock and sullenness.

Claire didn't call, not once, the entire weekend. Every time I would walk by a phone I would stop and stare at it. As if, with sheer mental force I could make it ring. When I slept I kept the cordless on my chest and my cell under my pillow on vibrate. It was pathetic, I'll admit, but I was desperate and I didn't really care.

"Dude," Jake called, cutting into my time staring at the phone in the kitchen. "She'll call. Just relax."

I sighed and tore my eyes from the phone, only to be brought back seconds later. We were eating breakfast and Jacob was nearly done, while my serving bowl of cereal was a soggy mess.

"Maybe, you should call her." He pointed out gently.

"You returned her car, right?" I asked in avoidance.

"Yes, now call her." Jacob was starting to get annoyed.

I looked him in the eye. "I can't, what if her mom answers?"

Jake's eyes tightened as he stared at the milk in his bowl. I could see him thinking, possibly working out what to say. "Yeah, I've seen and spoken to Sarah for awhile now."

"Oh," I said after a beat. "She's okay…with you…and everyone else…you know with Claire?"

He breathed out sharply through his nose and met my eyes before speaking again. "Yes. It was you they had a problem with, remember? Even after all those years, they were still reluctant to let you babysit or drop off at day care. They never minded when it was Emily or me because we weren't fitted like you were to Claire. So, after the incident, after you left, after they got over it as best they could, after Claire had enough fits, they let her come back."

My stomach twisted as I tried to acclimate myself to what he said. It was hard to tell if this made me happy or not. That they disliked me so much to begin with, and now undoubtedly hated me, was hard to swallow. They were Claire's parents, the people who brought her into this world, who I thanked God for everyday, and I longed for their acceptance. And it really was just me they had the problem with, not the pack or our situation, just me.

"How is it at Claire's house? How are they now?"

Jake frowned and I shifted edgily in my seat. "Well, her mother…hasn't changed. She sits around in her robe and watches soaps and QVC all day. Doesn't eat, barely speaks. Andrew is completely different. He's a workaholic who's never home and who only sees his daughter a couple times a week. If for some strange reason he comes to a family function with Claire all he does is prattle on about his job and stuffs his face. It always ends with him dragging her home early, muttering something like 'it's too hot in here'." He laughed without humor.

"Have they ever mentioned me?" I could barely hear myself ask.

"No. Not for years." He paused weighing his next words. "Never around Claire, not even in the beginning. Even those first couple days when she was crying and calling for you, they didn't even cringe, just ignored her like she was talking about someone who didn't even exist."

It felt like someone had poured concrete in my stomach. I found myself fighting the urge to cry. Like I didn't even exist. "Did Claire…did she ever talk about me? I mean, I know now she doesn't know…be did she ever?"

Jake wouldn't meet my eyes and my heart raced in fear. "No. Not since the day you left. I dropped by her house after to play with her; you should have seen her at the church that morning, on the verge of tears the entire time. So I stopped by to find her soaking wet, having stood out in the rain for God knows how long. I told her that you had left and she just looked at me blankly, didn't say a word, and nodded. She never brought your name up again after that. It was like in the space of an hour she just forgot who you were and what you meant to her."

I remembered that day. I wish I didn't. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, leaving Claire, my life, my little girl. I could still feel the icy rain dripping down my spine as I turned my back on her, on everything that was beautiful and worthwhile in this world for me.

"The scary part was she wasn't the only one who wanted to forget. The pictures, the video tapes, the toys, were all gone from her house. Anything that would be a reminder of you was thrown out. I remember one time, at Jared and Kim's place, about a year after you left, I walked in on Claire throwing a picture frame at the wall. It was the picture of you two from the last Christmas. There was glass everywhere and I started yelling at her and showing her the damage, but something made me stop in my tracks. She refused to look at the picture and when I put it in front of her face she froze staring at before grabbing it and tearing it into a thousand tiny pieces. Everyone cleared out any and all Quil paraphernalia after that."

"Like I didn't even exist," I repeated.

Jacob shook his head sadly. "Not for Claire. Not anymore."

The phone chose to ring at that moment, making me go from depressed to ecstatic in two seconds flat. Both me and Jake lunged for the phone at the same time but he got it first.

"Give it! It might be Claire!" I demanded as I attempted to wrestle it out of his hands.

"Down boy, down! Let me answer, you don't want to sound too desperate do you?" He looked at the caller id and grinned before answering it.

"Well, hello, hot stuff!" Jake could barely contain his laughter. I growled threateningly. "Oh, yeah, he's right here. Been waiting on your call all morning. Stumbling around the room screaming 'Claire, I _need _ you, like the morning sun—'"

I snatched the phone away and screamed franticly, "No, Claire, he's just being a loser, don't—"

"Quil?" asked a deep voice.

I glared at Jake and smacked him up the side of his head. "Yes, Sam, it is. What's going on?"

"We need you guys phased and ready to go at the southern tip of First Beach as soon as possible." His voice kept going in and out like the phone was moving.

"Yeah, sure," I answered, already taking off my sweatshirt. "Why?"

There was a pause. "We picked up a strange scent."

When we arrived at the beach ten minutes later, everyone's thoughts were frantic.

_We were on patrol and then out of nowhere there they were_ , muttered Embry's thoughts.

_The look in the small females eyes made me want to…_ , trailed off Paul's thoughts.

_Never seen anything like it before, not since the Cullen's left_ , was Seth's awed musings.

_Quiet!_ , demanded Sam. He looked at me and Jake pointedly as he started to give us the play by play. _Embry, Paul and Seth were on patrol when a group crossed over the line from the north. Right in front of them stepped out six of them. Four males, two females. Immediately they tried to take them down, but it looked they had been expecting it because they followed the boundary line all the way down the beach until jumping from the cliffs and swimming in a semi-circle to come up outside of the other side of the boundary. _

Everyone's thoughts burst forth, interrupting him.

_They were grinning the entire time we were chasing them, like it was a game or something. They didn't even seem afraid or surprised to see us_ , explained Seth helpfully.

_I almost had the little blonde one but the biggest male came back for her and risked his own hide to carry her the rest of the way. How I wanted to tear him limb from limb_ , Paul as always was bitter over the entire thing.

_It was so obvious, what they were doing. There is no doubt they knew what we were and where to find us. Seth was right it was like a game to them or a test for us. _ Embry seemed quite taken aback.

_How would they know?_ Inquired Collin, blank up till then.

_There are only two groups of their kind who know about us. The Cullen's and that coven of five twelve years ago. One of them must have told, _ Brady recapped.

For a minute everyone relived both confrontations that happened so long ago. After helping out with the newborns fifteen years ago the pack was no longer involved with the Cullen's. And the coven of five would no longer be an issue, we had wiped them out.

_Yes, so it must be the Cullen's_ , Leah sneered, replying to my thoughts. Everyone turned to look at Jake who was being very passive and quiet.

He sighed mentally and answered, _Bella promised that they wouldn't mention it to anyone new, not even the Italians. The only ones who knew besides them was the coven in Alaska because of that black haired leech we took out. _

_Those aren't the only ones alive to tell the tale, _ informed Sam. _Remember the twins that got past us twelve years ago? The child leeches? They definitely got an eye full of us and for all we know they found some more of their kind and let it spill about what we are and where we live. They could be behind all of this; God knows they have some sort of power._

I remembered once again the shock of seeing that white skin and those red eyes on a small child who looked all of seven. I had only caught glimpses of them on that fateful day, but I would never forget. The immediate hate I always experienced when I encountered one of their kind was watered down by the devastation of seeing one so small be so corrupted and damned.

_It was even harder at the fight, _ recalled Jared. _You weren't there but the shock of seeing them nearly threw us off. The adults had formed a circle around them protectively, so we were forced to take them out first. No one knew how to handle baby bloodsuckers so we took our time destroying the rest of the coven, thinking the twins will stay where we left them. We turn around and they're gone, we follow their scent right over the boundary but it just disappeared. _

There was a lull as the pack absorbed what this could mean.

_I doubt the twins are behind it. I would put money on the Alaska coven, Bella said they weren't too happy after what we did to their friend, _ Jake pointed out.

_But wait fifteen years for revenge?_ Questioned Sam. _I know they've got forever, but that's still a damn long time to hold in your feelings. We won't rule it out, but I still have a feeling that those twins might be involved. It's too much of a coincidence. _

_What about the Cullens! Just because they're half-leeches doesn't mean they can be trusted to keep their promises!_ Leah wouldn't let up.

The pack thoughts turned to Jake again, bombarding him with concerns and doubts. Irritating him immensely. He scowled as well as he could in his wolf form while shouting at us in his head to show us his discomfort.

_Enough!_ Sam's thoughts shouted above the rest. _We're not ruling anything out at this point; the Cullens are still fair game. Until we get some evidence. Now, let's get started. There will be six people out at all times, looking for the intruders and any signs of who this coven might be and their motive for being on our land. _

The weekend was spent running and sleeping, and doing very little of the latter. It was amazing how we all stayed coherent throughout it. The stress and anxiety brought on by the hostility of another outside force wore on us all. Those of us with families spent all their time worrying and stressing about their loved ones, while those by themselves only cared about a fight and that it happen soon.

The only sign the intruders had left behind were their scent and broken twigs and ferns where the small female Paul had been after fell. The scent was as awful as ever, it was similar to breathing deeply through your nose in below zero weather. The inside of your nose freezes up and it's hard to keep breathing. Add to that the nauseating sweet smell, like inhaling in sugar. It set us all on edge, having the enemies scent fresh in our noses.

Almost everyone seemed to enjoy this new challenge, except for me and Sam. In Sam's mind it was like a never ending cycle that he should have taken himself out of a long time ago. When I was on patrol with him his thoughts were focused on his decision so many years ago to keep the alpha role and how even when things had died down Jake had no longer wanted it. I myself seemed to dwell on the past. All of this, the intruders and the disappearances and murders we were prepared to have pop up, was too familiar to me. I found myself being even more obsessive and protective of Claire, often going off my patrol path to check her house or school.

Monday was much of the same. As always patrolling with Leah was just delightful and exhausted me even more. I didn't get back to the house until about 3:00 in the afternoon. I had just gotten a couple apples to tide me over until I got some sleep and acquired enough energy to cook. I was passing through the living room when the phone rang.

I bounded across the room to retrieve the cordless from between the couch cushions. "Hello?" My voice was painfully hopeful, even to my ears.

"Hey…Is this Quil?" Claire's voice was uncertain.

"Yeah, it's me." I was so relieved that she had gotten in touch with me that I didn't try to mask the joy in my voice.

"Oh, hi."

I laughed. "Hi. So, what's up?"

"How was you weekend?"

"Busy." Lonely. Stressful.

"Cool." She sounded so unsure that it made me a little worried. "So, what are you doing tonight?"

I took a deep breath and ran through my schedule in my head. I had taken the night shift two nights in a row and was finally being rewarded a full nights sleep tonight. I wasn't needed until 6:00 tomorrow morning. "Nothing. Why, did you have something in mind?"

"Well," I waited impatiently as she seemed to collect herself on the other line. "Nothing big. I just wondered if you wanted to come over to my house and hang out?"

"Sure, I'll be there in twenty minutes." I grinned as we said our goodbyes and all throughout the quick shower I took.

I was almost out the door when Jake stopped me. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Claire's house." I answered while shrugging a jacket on.

He narrowed his eyes. "What about—"

"Look, I'm in a hurry. And no you can't come. Be a big boy and stay home alone for once."

My driving wasn't exactly what one would call safe. I was speeding and running red lights and stop signs, and I nearly made road kill of an old man walking his dog. There was so much anticipation crackling down my spine that it was hard for me to concentrate or hold back.

As I got closer to Claire I felt the swelling in my chest go down and my brain clear. That was the strangest thing to get used to when I first imprinted on Claire. How it physically hurt to be apart from her and how single minded I had become. Imprinting is such a permanent change, so bittersweet, so two faced. It can bring you such joy or such pain as I knew only too well.

After parking on the street and grabbing the fistful of yellow daisies I had picked up at the grocery store on my way here I made my way to her front door. Standing there, listening to doorbells ring echoing inside the house, I felt sixteen years old again. Blinded and lighted by love.

Around the third ring I could hear someone bounding down the stairs and then the door was flung open with enthusiasm. Claire's wide eyed exuberant face appeared about level with my chest and I smiled more easily than I had in days. Before I could make a move to enter Claire's hand shot out to grab a fistful of my shirt and pull me sharply inside.

I only had two seconds to get a look at how the house had changed. It was darker, dustier and hardly looked lived in. It looked abandoned really. Nothing like the sunny, open haven I remembered.

Claire pulled me up the stairs, making me trip three times. Jeez, who knew she had such back strength. When we finally made it to the second floor, Claire pressed me up against a wall and brought a finger to her lips. I was shaking with silent laughter at this point, it was all so ridiculous.

She glared at me threateningly. "What?" I whispered. "You didn't have time to hide the body under the floor boards? My god."

She slapped her hand over my mouth which only made me laugh harder. Most likely I was just trying to hide how much I enjoyed her being so pushy. A little too much.

"Shhh!" She hissed. We both froze and listened. Nothing. Claire let go of me. "Thank god, I don't think she woke up. What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I just didn't know I was involved with a schizoid—OW!" The sound of her slapping my arm echoed in the narrow hallway. As she dragged me to the second door on the right I thought I heard her mutter something like 'what a great big lunatic!'

There was a pause where she took a deep breath and gave me a behave-yourself look before she opened the door to her room. I tried to hold in my laughter but for some reason, maybe it was sleep deprivation or I really was a lunatic, it was the funniest thing I had seen in a long time.

"What!?" Claire growled. She gave me a nice shove and shut the door behind us.

"Abuse!" I cried making myself laugh harder.

"What has you laughing like a hyena exactly?"

"It's just…so orange."

Her jaw dropped. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The walls, the bedspread, the rug…oh my god even the computer!"

"So?" Claire's face was dark with anger and embarrassment. "I went through a phase where it was my favorite color."

"More like you had one of you episodes. Do you freak out over everything orange? I bet you're a mess at Halloween."

With a huff she pushed past me and plopped down in a chair and began messing around with her computer. It really was amazing; I didn't know you could buy so many things in this color. Chairs, picture frames, mouse pads, desks, book cases, posters, it went on and on. It kind of hurt your eyes to be open. I wonder how Claire sleeps in here at night; it would be like sleeping inside of a pumpkin.

I walked over to the bookcase and was surprised at how many titles I was familiar with. The last time I had been in this room I was helping Claire with sounding out words. Now look at what she was reading. The Iliad, 1984, The Silver Kiss, Catcher in the Rye, Dracula, Dr. Zhivago, The Awakening, Interview With A Vampire, Jane Eyre, War and Peace, Lolita…

"How long did it take you to read War and Peace?" I asked turning around to look at her. She typed furiously and loudly, her shoulders tense. I sighed; I had gone too far, I would now have to beg for forgiveness. I shuffled over to where she sat and fell to my knees. "Claire? Claire, I'm sorry."

She refused to look at me. "Please? I'm sorry I made fun of your obsession with orange."

"It's not an obsession!" She broke down and cut her eyes to me.

"Okay. It's not weird or anything, in fact I think it's cute. I was laughing because of how cute it was."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay." I opened my mouth to ask again but she cut me off. "And four months."

"Wow. Impressive."

In defeat she sighed and swiveled to face me. For a minute we just stared at each other and I felt it again. The gravity pulled me farther and farther into Claire's orbit. I was helpless to it. Helpless to her.

"What is this song?" I asked breathlessly.

"What?" she blinked and then blushed. "Oh, it's by Lovedrug."

"Never heard of them."

She nodded and got out of her chair so quickly it almost fell over. I joined her a moment later where she stood awkwardly regarding her book case. I noticed that a lot of her books had a repeating genre.

"You like fantasy?"

"Yes," she answered suspiciously. "I'm not really a heaving-bodice, oh-we-simply-can't-be-together romance novel kind of girl."

"Vampires, werewolves and faeries, oh my."

"Exactly. Books about normal people are just boring. What's the fun in reading if you're not reading about mythical creatures?"

I laughed, but it was hallow. For some reason this was a little disturbing, and my curiosity got the best of me. "What if they were real?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if vampires and werewolves and faeries," I snorted on the last word, getting an image of Jacob in a tutu in my head. "What if they really existed?"

She eyed me first to make sure I was serious, before grabbing a few books and sitting down on her bed. I only hesitated slightly before dropping down next to her. I looked at some of the titles she picked out. Dracula, Blood and Chocolate, Interview With A Vampire, and The Silver Kiss.

"So, what if they were real?" I nodded. "Well…that would be kinda cool. But also scary as hell."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She traced the lines on one of the covers, taking her time. "All such creatures are representations of human nature. People who feed off of others energy and resources to survive. People who are so controlled and so helpless to things they can't control _what_ they are. People who are manipulative and believe themselves to be omnipotent. We're all guilty of these things. Maybe not drinking blood or shape-shifting or using magic. But we are all tested in the same ways, we all face similar choices.

"So if they were real, it would obviously be an extreme of human nature embodied in creature that is decidedly not human. It would bring about other such possibilities. It would be freeing and exhilarating to know the extraordinary had become ordinary. But…it would be scary because of what it would mean. All the things that go bump in the night, the basis of every scary movie, every plot in every book would be true. It would mean that the part of everyone that sucks blood and is a vicious animal and is crazy with power exists.

"It would mean we are damned. We are cursed. We are obsessive and destructive. If nothing was make believe we would go mad. For power. For what was. For more impossibility. Humans question by nature but it is this curiosity and wild imagination that makes us the most destructive creatures alive. We are willing to kill and to transform and to ruin. In the end it doesn't matter though, there are enough evil people in the world to show just how horrifying human nature is."

On the inside I was falling apart. The way she described us… helpless, vicious animals, cursed, controlled. According to her we had no free will, no choice in our fate at all. We were cursed. I shut my eyes against that word. How often had I used it to describe my twelve year long exile? How often had I hated my heritage, my nature, for bringing me such suffering?

Claire was right. It was scary. People are furious when put in a box, but take them out and they'll be begging for some protection. Being a wolf was the personification of being helpless. Your helpless to you body, your emotions, your leader, your hate. Helpless to the cruelest joke of fate, imprinting.

And, sure, she might find it all cool now, but what about when she finds out her friends and her family are cursed vicious creatures. How easy it is to lose control. To hurt or kill the ones you love. To have the destruction of the devil be your life's focus. Yeah, it's really cool to be a killer, a mindless creature. Not quite human.

"Jake told me something when he dropped off my car."

"Oh, yeah?" I whispered, coming out of the place of self hate I had gone into.

"He told me something like, 'Our dear friend Quil likes all that fruity poetry crap, but don't tell him I said that or he just might come out of that closet of his to hurt me.'" She imitated Jakes voice so well that even I had to laugh.

"That's Jake for you."

"So, give me your favorite poem." For the first time that evening she looked so unguarded that I was tricked into honesty.

"The Definition of Love by Andrew Marvell." The second it was out of my mouth I regretted it. It was almost a lie in a way. It wasn't that I loved the poem, just that I felt such a strong connection to it.

Claire was resting against the pillows at the head of the bed while I was lounging on the end. It was a twin bed and I did not fit well. She sat forward and looked at me curiously. "It sounds familiar. Recite some of it."

Oh, shit. "Oh, I don't remember much. I couldn't—"

"Come on, Quil. If it's one of your favorites you'll be able to recite a few verses for me." Claire quirked an eyebrow in a challenge.

I sighed and eyed her right back. The first few verses rang so true.

_My Love is of a birth as rare  
As 'tis for object strange and high:  
It was begotten by Despair  
Upon Impossibility._

__

Magnanimous Despair alone  
Could show me so divine a thing,  
Where feeble Hope could ne'er have flown  
But vainly flapped its Tinsel wing.

_  
And yet I quickly might arrive  
Where my extended soul is fixt,  
But Fate does iron wedges drive,  
And always crowds itself betwixt._

I watched Claire as I recited the entire poem from memory. She sat with her lips pursed and her eyes far off. I wonder if underneath all the years and her self-inflicted amnesia, she knew how true these words were.

_As lines so Loves oblique may well  
Themselves in every angle greet:  
But ours so truly parallel,  
Though infinite can never meet._

_  
Therefore the Love which us doth bind,  
But Fate so enviously debars,  
Is the conjunction of the Mind,  
And opposition of the Stars._

"But, it's so sad." She said after a meaningful silence. "About love growing from despair and how fate keeps the lovers apart. It's almost like their helpless to it, as if love is a force of nature."

"Yes, it's almost not fair." I spoke softly as I looked into her eyes. "The greatest love is out of your hands. You become a slave to it. Think of Romeo and Juliet or Tristan and Isolde. Love so perfect that it could not be. It was like the Universe feared such Love because it was so powerful, greater even than the Stars, and had Fate intervene."

Looking into her eyes I started to fall into them. I wanted to confess all my secrets and desires. I wanted to as close to her as humanely possible. I wanted but could not have, in conjunction with great love. "So what's yours?"

Claire laid back again and patted the space beside her. I was holding my breath as I settled myself beside her, our sides pressed tightly to each other in the small space. We turned our heads to look at each other and we breathed together. Her sweet breath blew past my lips, sending my mind spinning. I rested my forehead against hers lightly as she began her poem, her soft husky voice recreating the words as a spirit.

_I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz  
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:  
I love you as certain dark things are loved,  
secretly, between the shadow and the soul._

_I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries  
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,  
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body  
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth._

The emotions were raging inside of me. I took one of her hands and pressed it against my chest as an anchor. I closed my eyes against the feeling, but it was too strong and could not be repressed. Only embraced.

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,  
I love you simply, without problems or pride:  
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving_

_but this, in which there is no I or you,  
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,  
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close_

As the cursed creature I was, I was helpless to this force. I brought her hand up from my chest and pressed her it against my cheek. I didn't need water or food. I didn't need air. I needed Claire, I need her loving touch and her taste in my mouth. I kissed her palm and felt all my walls and all my inhibitions fall away.

I cracked my eyes open to see her face glowing pink and orange from the setting sun, an unfathomable expression her eyes. I searched her soul like that, looking for what I needed to continue. I saw it there, right on the surface. She was glowing with it.

I let her hand go so that I was free to touch her face. She leaned into my hand and I felt my soul soar. My fingertips ran across her cheekbone and lightly over her eyelids. They trailed down her nose and chin. They stopped to brush lovingly and hauntingly across her smooth full lips.

I leaned even closer so that our lips were only an inch apart. My hand curved softly around her neck. Her pulse was felt flying beneath my thumb. So softly, it could barely be felt I pressed my lips to hers.

Bared we were to each other at that moment. Lost to this grand force called love. We were blind and deaf. We could only feel. Feel the other. We existed to feel this exact thing. Not in the fifteen years that Claire had ruled my life had I ever experienced anything so wonderful. It was amazing to me that she existed for me, and I for her. Jake was right, me and Claire were fitted to each other. Unable to be complete without the other, unable to breathe or sleep or smile. It was a desperate situation, one that gave as much as it took.

I kissed her trembling top lip, her breath blowing onto my chin. During a second that would stretch infinitesimally, we were still, just breathing. Then she met pressure for pressure and I forgot about poetry and fate and wasted time.

It was exquisite, the way our lips moved together. It was powerful how our mouths fused. I could feel my blood pumping, my cells splitting, my body extending to meet hers in every way. My hands were shaking as they knotted in her hair and my breaths were frantic. I ran my tongue against her soft bottom lip and her taste nearly drove me mad with desire.

Maybe there wasn't a heaven for the dead, but this was heaven for the living.

I tiptoed down the stairs two hours later. I opened the door quietly, replaying that heartbreakingly sweet goodbye kiss outside Claire's door just a minute ago. I was about to step across the threshold when a crash sounded behind me. I swung around and met eyes with Claire's mom.

At her feet were the jagged pieces of a coffee mug, with a dark liquid seeping across the hardwood floors. Sarah Moses stared at me with horror, her mouth gaping and her eyes round. She looked at me like I was a ghost, or a demon. Here to ruin her life all over again, to kill her dreams and steal her securities.

I slammed the door on my way out, only too unwilling to relive the horrors I had done.

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AN: Hey guys! Hope you guys enjoyed some wolfy drama and Quil and Claire getting some 'action'. Haha. I hope I made both exciting and enjoyable to read.

While you wait for my next update you should read _Parenting Skills 101 _ and _Family Therapy Cullen Style _ by **vjgm** . You'll laugh...you'll cry...because you'll be laughing so hard. Check it out.

**Reviews make me type faster, so drop by and tell me what you think if you want to read more. **

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